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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29962557">Dealing With A Devil</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/NicoPony/pseuds/NicoPony'>NicoPony</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dealer's Choice Series [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bromance, Demons, Depression, F/M, Family Loss, Family Secrets, Flashbacks, Magic, Male Friendship, Mind Control, Past Abuse, Possession, Prophecy, Romance, Team Dynamics, Tragedy, alternative universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:08:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>36,129</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29962557</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/NicoPony/pseuds/NicoPony</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Our honeymooners find themselves in charge of a de-aged weather goddess, fighting for their lives against not one, two, but three supervillains. Post-Savage Land, Rogue is thrown into self-doubt made worse by a run-in with Shadow King. Will our lovers ever find their way back to one another? Destiny may have written it in the stars. Sequel to Dealer’s Choice.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Belladonna Boudreaux/Remy LeBeau, Remy LeBeau/Rogue</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dealer's Choice Series [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2203734</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story takes place after the events in Dealer’s Choice and follows a mashed up storyline combining events in (Fall of the Mutants) Uncanny X-Men 225-227 and Uncanny X-Men 266-267, X-Factor 24-26. Uncanny X-Men 269, 274-275 "Rogue in the Savage Land", (Muir Island Saga) Uncanny X-Men 278-280, X-Factor 69-70. Several lines of dialogue are straight up lifted from Claremont’s run on Uncanny X-men.</p><p>In Dealer’s Choice, Gambit got to meet Rogue’s X-Family. Now we’ll spend some time getting to know Gambit’s. There are three parts to this story, Stormfront, Tempest, and Storm Surge.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Part I. Stormfront</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>May, 1998</p>
<p> </p>
<p>BellaDonna thought to argue with Gambit regarding his choice of uniform. For one, he was still wearing that coat of his, and it was obstructing what would have otherwise been a pleasant view as she followed him down the corridor. For now, all she could see was the swish of his coattails as he sauntered along as if they were on a Sunday stroll and not in an enormous gallery of ill-gotten art in the dead of the night. The gallery was lined on either side with a variety of paintings in disparate artistic genres, hung seemingly with no rhyme or reason. Remy dismissed most of them. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Banal.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Forgery.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Insipid.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fake.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What are we lookin’ for now?” Belle asked, gazing up at the arched glass atrium above. The sky was clear and the moon shone brightly through the glass to sparkle on the decorative pool along the center of the gallery.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’ll know it when you see it,” Remy assured her, glancing over his shoulder. She could see one red eye peer at her over the collar of his coat. She could tell he was smiling even though she couldn’t see his mouth. That’s it, the coat had to go.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t see why you couldn’t just wear your Guild uniform,” she told him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Not on de clock, sha,” he said. “Dis night is not for business...for <em> pleasure only </em>.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Belle shivered a bit at the dark, honeyed sound of his voice. “Whose pleasure?” she asked. “From what I’ve seen so far, dis little belated honeymoon you’ve arranged has all t’do with <em> you </em>and not wit’ me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Should we review de highlights from last night’s performance?” Remy asked her, his voice heavy with innuendo.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Seein’ as how there’s not much t’do out here in de middle of dis state other than <em> each other... </em>,” Belle began.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I promise I’ll make it up t’you,” he continued.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How’s dat?” she asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Next stop, Saint Louis,” he said. “Little rendez-vous with a certain Courier to return our well-gotten gains from t’night. Then a flight to JFK.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“New York? We gon’ visit your friends?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, me sha,” Remy said. “Dis trip is just about me and you. Don’t got too much time left, wit’ just us two, now. Thought we’d have a look around town, see if we can’t round up a few more of those stray demons left over from de Goblin Queen’s visit. You can knock yourself out pokin’ holes in some of Hell’s own denizens.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Belle’s face broke into a grin. “Well, you <em> do </em> know de way to dis girl’s heart after all.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Remy turned abruptly then, drew Belle into a hard embrace and pushed her against a wall between a painting of an old fashioned Dutch-looking man in a ruffled collar and a modern jaggedy scrawl of haphazard figures. Belle drew a sharp breath, looking into her husband’s dark red eyes. He gasped too, as she had her thigh pressed up between his legs, the threat there but not acted upon...yet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hate for you t’be bored, ma belle,” he said softly. “How can I make dis night more interestin’? For you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She released a ragged sigh, lowered her leg from where it pressed against him to stand on her toes against the wall. “Here...?” she whispered, a slow smile on her lips. “We might be caught…?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His lips brushed her own, parted as he whispered back: “Oh. I <em> know </em>.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She kissed him fiercely, hands claiming the back of his head, pulling him closer. His hands traveled up her thighs, pulled the waist of her breeches down. One of her hands grasped the hood he wore, pulled it from his head. The other searched under his coat, up under his chest piece, seeking the waistline of the form-fitted uniform bottoms he wore. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How much do you care about dese here panties?” Remy asked her, breath tickling her ear.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t say ‘panties,’” she whispered against the side of his unshaven face. “I hate dat word.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What’d ya call ‘em den?” he asked, then made a moaning sound as her teeth scored the side of his neck. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Underwear,” she answered, her tongue running over the spot she’d just bitten. Two of his fingers, now between her sex and said garment, were tugging her <em> underwear </em> down by the crotch.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s hardly a sexy word,” he said to her, kissing her mouth again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her lips pulled away from his, her head resting against the wall. She gasped as she felt a rush of heat flare around her hips. Her undergarment disintegrated in a flash via Remy’s mutant powers. “I wasn’t wearin’ them to be sexy,” she said and wrapped her legs around his waist. “I was wearin’ them to work.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Let me do de heavy lifting,” Remy said, pressing himself against her, then suddenly, into her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Belle shouted and clung to him, relishing the sensation of her body adjusting to accommodate him. She loved his attentions, the way he touched her on any other night (or morning, or day, or evening). Worshipful, intentional. But she loved this more. Spontaneous, vigorous. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Harder,” she urged, pressing her heels into the backs of his thighs.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He panted against her neck. “You sure? It’ll be---?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We’re not made of glass,” she urged him on, and cried out with pleasure when he complied. Belle didn’t remember the last time it had been like this. Before they were married, certainly. Before he’d left. Maybe it was the last woman he was with that made him so over-gentle, who polished off all his rough edges. Maybe that was how <em> she </em>had liked it. Or maybe it was that bitch Candra who had made Remy forget himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was hers now. His body, his soul. Most of his heart, probably.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Remy’s fingers dimpled her thighs, the wall behind her offering hard resistance as his body thrust into hers. She was getting close. Belle’s teeth found his lower lip. Then she was crying out over and again as her body clenched around his. Remy pinned her to the wall. His hand went over the eyes of the Dutch-looking fellow in the painting, as if he were spying on them. Belle breathlessly laughed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Belle, all that caterwaulin’s gonna wake de guard dogs outside,” he told her, equally breathless. Sometimes she wished he wouldn’t laugh during sex. This was serious business.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Belle pressed her lips to his ear. “Remy...I think someone’s...<em> coming </em>.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His breath caught then. She rolled her hips, tightened herself around him. Remy made a sound in his throat. His hips echoed the motion of her own.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Gettin’ closer,” she murmured. “<em> Closer… </em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ah, Dieu,” he said into her hair. Exhaled sharply and held her tightly to the wall for several moments as he stilled. He slowly released her legs to the floor. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Maybe I can come ‘round to dis thievin’ business,” Belle told him as he consulted one of his coat pockets, offered her a handkerchief. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Remy tugged his uniform bottoms back up around his waist. “I might not ever get any work done. If you plan to keep offerin’ me <em> la petite mort </em>, my little killer.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Belle righted her own Guild uniform. Stood on somewhat shaky legs. “I don’t make offers. Just <em> take </em> what you <em> want </em>, my little thief.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He kissed her, soft and lingering. She sighed against his mouth. He said: “I love you Mrs. Boudreaux-LeBeau.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I love you, Mr. LeBeau-Boudreaux,” she answered. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Seems t’me we oughta shorten dat name, it’s a mouthful.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Weh, I got somethin’ better for your mouth to occupy itself wit’,” Belle responded, kissed him hard. “Mebbe a mashup?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Like Desilu?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“LeDreaux?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“BouBeau?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Belle laughed, her voice echoed. “Dat’s stupid.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, <em> you’re </em>stupid. I’m ugly, remember?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Belle looked down at herself. “Give me a few more months and I think I’ll be de ugly one.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Remy clutched her possessively to himself, the way she liked. “Never,” he whispered. “You get as big a’round as you can, y’hear?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Belle rubbed her cheek against his. “We’ll see,” she whispered back. She was not too sure about being a mother. She didn’t exactly have the best examples for parents. Still, Belle felt she probably couldn’t do worse. Remy, on the other hand, was pleased as punch. Belle at least felt happy about that, that she’d given her husband something he’d not had before. Someone bound to him by more than promises and friendship. A blood relation, family, someone who was part him and part herself. She couldn’t just see his happiness. She could read his thoughts out loud if she wanted, from the letters he wrote to his friends back in New York. And unlike the last <em> enfant </em>she’d lost, this one was sticking around. Tante Mattie had said so.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So where is dis paintin’ we’re lookin’ for?” Belle asked. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Take a look,” he said. Belle’s eyes followed his gaze to the jaggedy-looking people in the modern painting. It wasn’t anything she particularly liked, but there was something about it that made the painting stand out from the rest. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Basquiat. Missing for these last two decades,” he said, and took the frame from the wall. “Help me wit’ these staples, will you?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Remy turned the painting over, released it from it’s frame and held it gently between his hands as Belle pulled the staples from the stretcher bars holding the canvas taut with the tip of her dagger. Once done, Remy gently rolled the painting and slid it into a tube, sealed it. He offered the tube to her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Maybe you oughta hang on t’dis. Things too long in my possession tend up end up gettin’ exploded.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Belle smiled and tucked the tube into the loop where a sword might have hung at her waist any other night. “Got more’n what we came for, enh? What’s next, cher?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“One question for you, ma belle,” he said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Shoot.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“‘You ever dance wit’ de devil in de pale moonlight?’” he asked with a grin, his eyes lighting with their inner fire.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You are a dumb-dumb,” she said, rolling her eyes. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He took her in his arms and waltzed her across the gallery floor. “Who’s de bigger dumb-dumb, me, or de dumb-dumb who foolishly asked me to marry her--again?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Best stupidest decision I ever made,” Belle answered, allowing herself to be led.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He sang: “<em> We get it on most every night...And when that moon gets big and bright, it's a supernatural delight. Everybody was dancin' in the moonlight… </em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He tipped her back, kissed her bared throat. When he slowly righted her again, his eyes flicked to something over her shoulder. He gave a small gasp, grinned broadly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Belle turned to look at what he’d seen. It was another painting, this one quite small.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Regarde ça,” he said. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Belle sighed. “Lookin’ like a coupla fruits, cher,” she said, bored.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Remy pinged the painting from the wall, dropped the frame from the small wood panel, only slightly larger than a postcard. Once free of the ugly frame, he pointed to the lower corner of the painting which had been hidden by the lip: <em> P.Cézanne </em>. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Look pretty nice over de crib, neh?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Belle took it from him, holding it by the edges as he’d demonstrated. A painting of a pair of bright peaches on a blue cloth. Belle said: “Mebbe we can <em> finally </em>agree on a color to paint de room then?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Grounds for divorce, dat,” Remy said. He removed a scrap of linen from one of his many pockets (okay, maybe the coat isn’t such a bad idea after all), wrapped the panel and carefully slipped it into an inner pocket. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You ready, cher?” Belle asked. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Really better go before the drugs we gave dem hounds wear off,” he replied. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>From somewhere down the gallery came the sound of inhuman growling. Belle and Remy regarded one another, then slowly turned towards the source of the noise. A flash of bright, electric blue-white light momentarily illuminated the gallery in stark black and white, followed by the sharp crack of thunder. Belle looked upward at the perfectly clear sky. She could not see the moon now. Instead, a small figure blotted out the moonlight to suddenly crash through the glass atrium.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Glass rained down from above. Figures were leaping from the roof into the gallery. The smallest figure fell, plunged into the central pool with a splash. Remy’s coat was off, landing heavily on the marble floor. He leapt into the pool. Belle turned, blades manifesting themselves in her hands, then spinning towards the snarling attackers. Human, but not, running on all fours, slavering like beasts. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It would perhaps be the most interesting night the inhabitants of Cairo, Illinois, would ever witness.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p>Next time: The Evil One isn't the only one after Storm.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Y’had t’pick de four-door, didn’t ya?” Belle was yelling at him as they sped away from the gallery, the estate, and whatever those crazy animal-people were.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It had de highest safety rating for de horsepower!” Gambit responded as he shifted, sending the Audi surging forward. He cast her a glance and a cheeky grin. “Thought we’d get a nice family vehicle. Not like we can strap a carseat to Loretta!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dis thing’s a boat!” Belle turned in the passenger seat, looking into the rear. “Y’all right there, chèrie?” she asked the small figure huddled in the backseat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Get her buckled in, will ya?” Gambit asked, adjusting the rear view mirror to regard their passenger. “And buckle in yourself!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop bein’ a mother hen!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seatbelt!” Gambit snapped. Police cruisers were quickly approaching, sirens wailing, heading in the south-bound lane towards them as Gambit navigated up the north. Belle plopped into her seat, buckled her safety restraint just as Gambit applied the brakes, turned the wheel sharply, sending the vehicle into a sharp tail spin that abruptly ended as he landed a perfect parallel parking job between two other vehicles alongside the street. He cut the headlights.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Down!” he barked, and they shrunk down into their seats as several police cruisers streamed past towards the estate they’d just robbed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gambit popped up as the cruisers disappeared from view, peeled out of the parking spot with a squeal of rubber on pavement, and onto the street. Now driving at a more sane speed, he glanced once again at the girl in the backseat. Back at the estate, he’d pulled her from the water, certain she’d smashed herself on the bottom of the shallow decorative pool in the gallery. But she’d coughed and sputtered when he drew her to the surface, arms flailing. She was now bundled in his coat, covered head to toe in its folds, shivering with either fear or cold. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can y’speak, chile?” Belle asked her kindly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Leave her be. She’s in some kinda shock, looks like,” Gambit said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She might need a healer,” Belle said and Gambit relented. Belle began again: “You got a name, girl?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The girl remained mute.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where your parents?” Belle asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“D-dead,” the girl replied. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mais la,” Gambit muttered. “Sorry t’hear dat, chère. You’re gon’ be okay now. Enh, Belle, lookin’ like Tante Mattie was right. We havin’ a girl!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut up, Remy,” Belle snapped. “You gonna scare her t’death!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, we throwin’ out names now, are we?” Gambit asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s it matter, Rem? You can’t be afraid of dis little girl, now, are ya?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not de girl, no. But whatever it was those things were chasin’ her down,” Gambit replied. “I’d just as soon remain anonymous.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hounds,” the girl said from the backseat. “Hounds. From the Evil One.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Evil one? Glad we cleared dat up then,” Gambit said. “We’ll get dis all figured out once we’re in our suite, enh? Dry off. Catch our breath.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Try t’breathe anyway, through de scent of dusty potpourri,” Belle grouched.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was either de bed and breakfast, or de Super 8, ma belle,” Gambit replied. “Not like we got many choices out here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You see what I got t’put up with?” Belle asked the girl. “Some honeymoon!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>thought it was gonna be boring!” Gambit replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lookin’ like it’s about to be even more excitin’ here in a bit!” Belle said, her voice rising in alarm, eyes looking past the girl and out the back windshield.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their getaway car was suddenly illuminated with a bright white spotlight. Gambit blinked in the glare from the rearview. “What in de fresh hell is dat!?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their vehicle was now tailed by something big, something silver, something with a bunch of legs. Also it was flying. Twin beams of light were projected upon their car as they drove down the two-lane highway. Oncoming traffic veered off the road in front of them. Gambit swerved to dodge a panicked driver. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The girl abruptly threw herself at the car door handle, trying to get out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah-ah-ah!” Gambit scolded. “Child safety locks! You stay put, p’tite.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It is Nanny!” the child shouted. “I must go!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Belle grasped the girl by her ankle. “You’re not goin’ anywhere, not wit’ dat </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing </span>
  </em>
  <span>for certain!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Two long cables, like tentacles, emerged from the ship behind them. The Audi heaved as the pair of them punctured the roof, little claws opened and snapped shut above their heads. The car’s wheels squealed on the pavement as the car fishtailed. A second pair of cables shot out from the bug-ship, smashed through the rear window, and reached out with claws to grasp at the girl. She screamed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Belle, take de wheel!” Gambit yelled and pulled himself over the center console and into the rear seat. With a pair of charged cards in his hand, he sliced through the cable like a hot knife through butter, freeing the girl from its coils. A shower of sparks and the cable retreated. The car was veering back and forth, the front end lifting from the pavement. Gambit had to fold himself into the backseat, kicking upwards at the pair of claws gripping the roof. One pulled free, only to pierce the rear passenger side window and seize Gambit by the upper arm. He was dragged abruptly to the left, over the little girl’s lap, head cracking the interior of the door. His shoulder screamed in pain as it was pulled from its socket. Belle turned from where she was wrestling with the wheel, struggling into the driver’s seat. She let loose her own powers, a blast of controlled flame which took off half the roof, freeing them from the second cable. Gambit had grasped the cable claiming his arm. He sent a charge through it, jerked backwards, and several rings within the cable snapped and exploded. He was free. Gripping his arm, he shunted his shoulder back into place with a pained grunt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wind was whipping through the car, which had become part-convertible. The bug-ship was still tracking above, now with full visibility to the three passengers below. Gambit held up a hand to shield his eyes from the glare of the spotlights. A door alongside the side rear of the ship slid open ominously. A flying figure in silver armor emerged. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Orphan Maker!” the girl shouted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s a delightful moniker!” Gambit said, and climbed from the vehicle’s broken rear window to crouch on the trunk lid. The armored figure was rocketing towards him now, some kind of laser weapons strafed the pavement to either side, aiming at the Audi’s rear tires. Gambit braced himself as Belle attempted to outmaneuver the blasts. Gambit sent a volley of charged cards at the attacker, nearly hitting him. The man in armor dove, buzzing inches over Gambit’s head. Gambit ducked and turned, then launched himself at the attacker to land on his back. Now the pair were spiraling up into the sky. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Leggo ‘a me!” the Orphan Maker cried, grasping at the arm now around his throat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gambit’s other hand searched the armor for some kind of weakness, some chink he could sink a charged card into. The Orphan Maker was taking them back towards the ship.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nanny! Help me!” the Orphan Maker called. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gambit thought with confusion: </span>
  <em>
    <span>He sounds like a child!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gambit suddenly found himself grasped by the back of his uniform. Cables were twisting around him, pinning his injured arm to his body. He was being drawn towards the ship. His other arm sought his collapsed bo staff which he kept strapped to his thigh. He pulled one half free, charged it, and whipped it at the portal beneath the ship from where the cable emerged. Felt a jolt through the cable as the staff detonated, and the cable suddenly went slack. Now claiming the cable with both hands, he swung downwards arching his body back, then swung his legs forward to propel himself upwards. He was swinging now, over the ship. Gambit released his hold on the cable, dropped to the ship’s roof, slid down its curved side and caught the top of the open door to boost himself into the ship. Gambit landed in a crouch, looked up to see something truly bizarre.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What in the fuck are you supposed t’be?” he asked, staring at the strange android creature before him; looking like a cross between Humpty Dumpty and R2-D2. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Language!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” the thing cried in an offended tone, its voice a shrill mechanical whirring. Gambit immediately felt himself in a great deal of pain as the thing shocked him with the force of a cattle prod. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gambit landed forcefully on the floor of the ship, in complete loss of his limbs. His teeth came down on his tongue, filling his mouth with the taste of blood. For a moment, he blacked out, his spine arching painfully backwards. A strangled scream tore from his throat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You---horrible, horrible man!” the android shrieked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was jerking and convulsing, his powers flaring uncontrollably. The interior was shaken by a series of explosions. An alarm was going off, a red light strobing. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Nanny!” Suddenly the Orphan Maker was there again, standing braced in the open doorway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Peter! I told you to go get Storm!” Nanny yelled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s her fault all this bad stuff is happening!” the Orphan Maker said petulantly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I said: </span>
  <em>
    <span>go!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Nanny scolded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Did she say ‘Storm’</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Gambit wondered. Tremors shook him still. The Nanny grasped him by the front of his chest piece and began dragging him to the rear of the ship. Gambit’s limbs scrambled for purchase.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You---shame on you!” Nanny was telling him. “I am putting you in a time-out. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Permanently</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“M-ma’am. Ma’am, beggin’ your p-pardon. I do apolog-g-gize f-for my f-f-foul lang-language,” Gambit stammered. “T-tryin’ t-to do better. Honest! S-s-stop swearing. G-give up smokin’.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The android paused to look down at Gambit where he lay on the floor. He could see gears and lenses shifting about in her strange goggle-like eyes as she considered him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can you find it in your heart to forgive me, ma’am?” he asked politely. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmm,” Nanny said thoughtfully. “Well, that was a very nice apology, young man. Perhaps you’re not such a bad boy after all.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no ma’am,” he agreed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” she relented. “I forgive you. You do have an interesting set of skills, after all. I know! We’ll give you what I like to call: a ‘do-over.’ I’ll raise you up properly the second time around.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uhm, come again?” Gambit asked, perplexed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“To the de-aging chamber with you!” Nanny declared and once again attempted to seize Gambit, who was now actively trying to claw his way away from the android-creature.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, nope! One traumatic childhood was plenty, thanks, merci bien! Au revoir!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nanny had him by the ankle, and continued to drag him back to the rear of the ship. His hands grasped a strange suit of armor by the leg. Nanny continued to tug. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Now, don’t be stubborn!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Through the windscreen at the ship’s bridge came a bright orange blast of flame. BellaDonna was attacking the ship. The ship heaved upwards, sending both Gambit and Nanny sprawling into the rear. The various suits of armor lining the walls tumbled like tin soldiers. Nanny rolled, squealing in her robotic voice. Gambit clung to the lip of some kind of tank, struggling to find a grip on the slanted floor. He began to search out handholds along the sides of the ship, climbing his way towards the cockpit. The ship was shuddering, several more alarms had joined the cacophony. The acrid burning of metal and wires filled the cabin with smoke. Gambit flinched as something he grasped gave way in a shower of sparks. The ship tilted forward now, and he clambered to all fours. His booted feet slid for purchase on the steel plated floor as he propelled himself forward.  Gambit managed to get to the captain’s seat and he stared blankly at the array of controls before him. Nothing remotely resembled the controls of a traditional aircraft. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He found himself forcefully sprawled over the control array by the force of an explosion behind him. The Orphan Maker blasted into him from behind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where is Nanny?” he squalled. “If you hurt her, I’ll beat you up so bad!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ack! Ah! No---! No, Peter! Peter, right? Nanny’s fine!” Gambit exclaimed, trying to placate the boy. “She’s in de back of de ship! Can you please go help her while I try to right de ship so we don’t all crash?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I---I---!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lissen, Petey. Gon’ be </span>
  <em>
    <span>okay</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Gambit tried to turn to look at the masked visage behind him. “Just go help your Nanny now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Orphan Maker’s grip loosened. He backed up a pace or two, turned to look into the rear of the ship. “Nanny?” he called.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Peter!” came her tinny voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m comin’!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just then, the windscreen exploded in a shower of glass. The cockpit lit up bright white. Gambit felt a crackle of electricity over his skin, smelled the stink of ozone. He tumbled backwards, blinded, body once again spasming out of his control.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Aaagh!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” cried the Orphan Maker. “That Storm! She’s a bad, bad girl!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gambit could not see. He struggled back to his feet. Sat in the captain’s chair. He fumbled at the controllers. They were plummeting now, heading straight down into what he assumed was a residential area. The wind was tearing through the broken windscreen, howling through the cabin. The ship shivered left and right. Gambit was thrown from the seat to land on the floor. Then it seemed the ship was righting itself, stabilizing even as it continued to descend. From his place on the floor he could hear the cracking of wood as the ship smashed into tree tops. The ship shuddered, then suddenly plummeted as it broke free of the trees. It hit the earth with a force that sent Gambit sliding forward into the console. Then there was a mighty splash and he felt the spray of water flow over him as it poured through the broken windscreen. The ship gave one last lurch and fell to its left. Gambit tumbled and slid again, struck the far wall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All around him, the ship was still screaming warnings. Something was on fire, something sparked. Gambit crawled to where he thought the open side panel was, hoping it wasn’t underwater. His hands followed the curved interior wall of the ship, then found his hands underwater to the wrists. At last, there was the open door. He fell through it and into the water below. Luckily, it was shallow, his hands and knees found the silty bottom of a lake. Felt his way towards shore.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Remy!” Belle’s anguished cry reached him from somewhere up ahead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He coughed smoke, spat out blood. “Belle!” he croaked, throat burning. He tried to find his feet, stumbled and fell. “Belle!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gambit felt her hands fall onto his shoulders. Belle pulled him upright. “My God, Remy!” she cried.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m okay,” he said. “But y’have t’help me. Lightning strike. I can’t...I can’t see.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“By the Goddess,” cried a young voice. “What have I done?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“De car,” Belle urged. “De car is dis way. C’mon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Belle hustled him over lumpy turf, then into leaf litter as they passed into a forest. Gambit stumbled over fallen limbs and rocks he could not see. Both Belle and the little girl were helping him now, urging him forward. At long last, he felt asphalt beneath his feet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dis way, sha,” Belle said softly. “Petite, will ya open de back? We’ll put him in dere.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The little girl dashed away. Gambit could hear the sound of a car door opening. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Watch your head for what’s left of de roof,” Belle told him, and he felt her hand gentle on the top of his skull. “Beb, you’re a right mess.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ugly, y’might say?” he suggested, pulling himself into the vehicle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She leaned down, pressed a kiss to his temple. “Don’t you ever scare me like dat again, husband.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Half terrified, but struggling not to show it he said: “S’good thing I have you lookin’ out for me, ma belle.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next time: Thief, Assassin and Goddess get the measure of one another.</p><p>Forgot my references from last time: the Dance with the Devil quote is from Batman (Michael Keaton version), and the song is "Dancing in the Moonlight" by King Harvest.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Storm found herself in the company of a pair of thieves, or so it seemed. Then the woman removed her cloak, her padded vest, and Storm saw the bandolier crisscrossing her back bristling with daggers. They were in a chintzy room with a canopy-covered queen-sized bed facing an ornate fireplace. The walls were covered with heavily patterned floral wallpaper, framed cross-stitch samplers. The mantle, vanity, and side tables covered with doilies, porcelain cat figures. Storm sneezed at the burdensome scent of potpourri and dust.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Belle glanced over at her. “Best get out of those wet clothes,” she told the girl, nodded at her open travel bag sitting on the chest at the foot of the bed. “Get somethin’ in my bag you can wear for now.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Belle moved into the attached bathroom, ran the water in the sink there. When she returned, it was with a folded washcloth. She approached the bed and applied the cloth to the man’s face, over his eyes. Remy, the woman had said his name was. He was seated on the edge of the mattress. Like Storm, he was soaked through. There was blood coming from a cut on his forehead, from the corner of his mouth. Some of his tangled brown hair, which fell long to his jawline, was burned. Belle had helped him remove the top half of his uniform. Remy’s shoulder was a painful shade of red and purple. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Storm moved to Belle’s bag, found a tee-shirt and went into the bathroom. She was still shaken from the Hound attack, the unexpected fight with Nanny and the Orphan Maker. Felt guilt for accidentally blinding the man who was only trying to rescue her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Remy,” she heard Belle say as Storm began to remove her sodden and dirtied clothing. “You okay, me sha? You’re bein’ too quiet. It’s scarin’ me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Storm looked at her reflection in the mirror, saw that she had a puncture wound in her arm. She had so many aches and pains from her battle, from the fall into the pool, she hadn’t noticed. One of the Hounds had grabbed her before she’d fallen through the atrium roof and she had been injured on one of its spines. She washed the wound in the sink, watched red swirl down the drain.</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>“Dat robot egg gave me a good zap,” Remy finally answered. “Feelin’ a bit </span><em><span>charged</span></em> <em><span>up</span></em><span>, and not in de usual way.”</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have a lie down, cher,” Belle said. “I’ll call Tante Mattie. See what she says about your eyes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Storm pulled Belle’s tee-shirt on over her head. It had an image of a woman eating a lit match and the name: ‘Fiona Apple’ on the chest. Belle was in the doorway to the bathroom now. “Look like you got roughed up a bit too, enh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Storm held a towel to her arm, staunching the slow flow of blood. “I am not so grievously harmed,” she replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Belle regarded her with consternation. “‘Grievously,’ enh? I got some bandages and whatnot in de car. Honey, I need you to keep an eye on Monsieur Gambit over dere for a sec. See if I can’t also find some ice for his shoulder.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Storm held her hand over the bowl of the sink, summoned a small cloud, filled the sink first with sleet, then hail. The ice balls clinked into the sink, half-filling it. Belle’s violet eyes moved from the sink, met Storm’s own. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You steered dat ship to earth with de winds,” Belle said. “Brought lightning down from de sky. Now ice.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have some control over the weather,” Storm said. “My powers are weak yet, but Nanny told me they would grow in time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Belle nodded slowly. “If you can do all dis at, what---I’m guessin’ thirteen, fourteen---I can only imagine what they’ll be when you’re grown. Get a fresh towel, put de ice in dere for now for Remy. I’ll be right back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Belle left the suite, Storm thought perhaps she should make a hasty getaway from the two, return to the safe haven of her junked airplane at the local dump. It was the only home she’d known for some time now, she couldn’t quite remember how long. She couldn’t quite remember a lot of things. Instead, she scooped ice into another towel and brought it back into the suite. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remy was laying on top of the bedclothes, washcloth over his eyes. Storm climbed up onto the mattress to position herself on his left. “I have ice,” she told him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nodded once, his expression unreadable. She applied the ice to his wounded shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Belle had wiped the blood from his face. Storm saw his features to be sharp, angular. His mouth, when he’d spoken to her briefly, seemed to have a permanent kind of smile. His eyes, however, were frightening. Or they would have been, if Storm hadn’t witnessed some truly frightening things over the course of her short life. By comparison, Remy’s eyes were not so terrible.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s your handle, good buddy?” Remy asked her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I beg your pardon?” Storm responded, confused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What d’you call yourself?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She noticed that he did not ask: ‘What is your name?’ “I am called Storm,” she replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nodded, as if confirming something in his own mind. “You got a big sis, Stormy?” he asked, then sang: “‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>A cousin...identical cousin, all de way’?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do not understand you,” Storm replied. “Save for the part where you named me ‘Stormy.’ Do not call me that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remy smiled. He was about to respond when he suddenly jolted. A ceramic kitten on the bedside table exploded. Storm jerked backwards as a ripple of pinkish energy crackled over Remy’s chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Timelines tangling twisting tearing---fabric of reality fraying...rent asunder---</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he rasped. Then a string of sounds in a language Storm did not understand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was still muttering when Belle returned. She assessed Remy, his incoherent mumbling. Storm, where she had recoiled onto the mattress. The spilled ice and broken figurine. Belle quickly crossed the room to Remy’s side. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” she asked, placing a hand on Remy’s forehead. “Remy! What’s de matter, sha?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He was speaking with me, most of it nonsensical, then spasmed,” Storm told her. “And began speaking less sense than before.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Belle removed the washcloth from his eyes which were open, but black and staring. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Remy,” she hissed. “Remy, mon coeur, come back t’me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remy took a shuddering breath and became still. “Belle?” he asked, as if he were coming from very far away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m here,” she responded. “You gonna be okay, beb?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remy swallowed, nervous it seemed. “What’d Tante have t’say?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Said it was likely retina burn. That’ll heal itself in a few weeks.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remy nodded his understanding, smiled a bit. “You’re right, chère. Dis </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>some honeymoon. Guess I’ll just have t’look not wit’ my eyes, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>wit’ my hands</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Belle let out a half-relieved sigh or laugh. Storm glanced away when Belle bent to kiss his mouth, feeling awkward sitting on the bed beside the two adults. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thank you for the rescue,” Storm told them, then began to slide backwards from the bed. “I will return to my...home.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Belle looked up at her, expression grave. “You’re not goin’ anywhere,” Belle told Storm sternly. “Not wit’ those Hounds from Hell after you, that crazy robot and her knight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I cannot stay here,” Storm responded. The woman was no longer wearing her blades, the holster had been draped over the back of a nearby wooden chair. Belle saw Storm glance at it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t even think about it, missy,” Belle said, her voice like steel. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Better lissen to her,” Remy told Storm. “Woman don’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Belle pointed to the bed. “Get in. Get some rest.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Storm slowly obeyed, sitting in the center of the mattress with her back to the headboard. She watched Belle carefully, biding her time for the moment she could escape. Remy’s hand reached out, found her bare foot and patted it. “Don’t be runnin’ off now, padnat. We only want t’help you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I did not ask for your help,” Storm said, and even she could hear the childish sullenness in her own tone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Belle began to undress, her eyes still fixed on Storm. Storm saw the woman wore no undergarments. Belle folded the bottom of her uniform (strangely archaic in design, like a knight from the Middle Ages), and placed it onto the foot of the bed. She recovered perfectly mundane underwear and pajamas from her bag, a pattern of hearts and kisses on the bottoms. Belle saw Storm looking at her nighttime garments and smiled ruefully. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My husband gave me these. He is a strange one,” Belle told Storm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Storm allowed herself a small smile in return. Once she pulled on her bottoms, Belle removed her top.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are pregnant,” Storm observed with surprise. The woman had a delicate-looking frame, but beneath her clothing she was muscular, small-breasted, no body fat. The protrusion of her belly was obvious. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Belle looked down at her stomach and said with false surprise: “Why, so I am!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You should not have placed yourself in danger on my account,” Storm told her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What kinda person would I be, t’leave a child in trouble?” Belle asked, pulled her pajama top on over her head. “Certainly no kind of mama-to-be, anyway.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Belle sat on the bed. Now Storm was sandwiched between the two adults. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You let us worry, Stormy,” Remy told her. “Take a load off your mind. You be de kid, let us take care of you. We’re de adults here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>One</span>
  </em>
  <span> of us is an adult, anyway,” Belle corrected. “Now I got three babies t’take care of.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When will the baby come?” Storm asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“End of December,” Belle said, adjusting pillows, leaning back against them. “I’m beat. Makin’ a person is exhausting. Now, you listen here, girl. No runnin’ off. You catch some sleep. We got a long drive tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where do you think to take me?” Storm asked, prepared to protest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Back home,” Belle answered. “New Orleans. You’ll like it.” She seemed to consider something, stood from the bed and went to her holster. She pulled a blade and its sheath free and returned to the bed. “Here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Storm cautiously took the blade she was offered by the grip. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dis be a show of good faith,” Belle told her. “I trust you. I trust you not t’stab me in my sleep. To not run off and get yourself killed by some rabid man-beast. Will you trust us?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Storm held the weapon carefully, nodded slowly. She slid down the mattress, her feet and legs now under the blanket. She lay back against one of the many pillows on the bed, slipped the blade beneath it. Belle lay down beside her, reached to the bedside lamp to turn it off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Try t’get some sleep,” Belle said in the darkness. “Might be hard, seein’ as how Remy tends to have conversations wit’ himself all night long.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Storm turned, laying on her side to face Remy. Belle’s warm hand against her back was comforting. She could not recall the last time she’d been touched, felt the warmth of another human body. Despite Belle’s warning, however, Remy was silent. His blackened eyes fixed to the ceiling, staring sightlessly. <br/>
</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next time: On the road and on the run in Memphis...you ain't nothin' but a Hound, dog.</p><p>random reference: Patty Duke show theme song (identical cousin)</p><p>"Tangling Twisting" line is straight up Claremont. If you can guess where it came from, you'll figure out where I'm going...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>May, 1998</p><p><br/>
"Do you understand what he is saying?" Storm asked from the backseat of the rental car. They were forced to abandon Belle's and Remy's "family friendly" vehicle, as it was so badly damaged by Nanny's attack. Belle had inevitably chosen a similarly sensible four-door sedan.</p><p>Remy didn't gloat about being right, however. Belle glanced over at him now; he was seated in the passenger seat, muttering to himself. "No clue," she said with concern, returning her eyes to the road. "Remy's only got a passing understanding of a lot of languages, English bein' one of them, but I've never heard de likes of dis here nonsense."</p><p>Storm leaned forward to look at the side of the thief's face. Remy did not seem to comprehend his surroundings at the moment. He had gone in and out of reality over the past few hours. If he had a recollection of the things he was saying during these times, he had not let them in on it. Remy abruptly fell silent. Belle's hands were tight on the steering wheel, knuckles white. They were driving south. From Storm's understanding, it would be something like an eight-hour drive to New Orleans.</p><p>"Dat's good," Belle told herself. "Maybe he's gone t'his happy place."</p><p>Remy suddenly shouted in alarm and Belle pressed the brakes. Remy's hands were clasped to his head as he called out again. Belle navigated to the side of the road.</p><p>"Remy! Remy, me sha, what's wrong?" Belle grasped his shoulder, shaking him.</p><p>"It's...it's a miracle! De Saints win de 2010 Super Bowl!" he declared, and then began to weep tears of joy.</p><p>Belle and Storm stared at him and he lapsed into silence. Eventually, Belle shook her head, signalled left to return to the flow of traffic.</p><p>"My husband's gone crazy," she said softly.</p><p>"We might have taken my plane," Storm told her. "It would have been faster."</p><p>"Now you crazy if you think I'm gonna let a pre-teen girl fly some broken ass plane hunnerds of miles from Illinois clear to New Orleans," Belle told her.</p><p>Remy abruptly said to Storm: "If it's any consolation, I'da let you do it, padnat."</p><p>Belle shook her head with exasperation. They were on a highway along the Arkansas border, approaching Memphis, Tennessee. Belle signaled to turn onto an exit offramp. "I need coffee if we're ever gonna make it. Call and check back in at home."</p><p>"Sounds good, ma belle," Remy told her.</p><p>"You hungry, padnat?" Belle asked Storm, looking at her in the rearview. "Can I get you a Happy Meal?"</p><p>"I am unfamiliar," Storm replied. "What is a 'happy meal'?"</p><p>Remy smiled. "Better not stop at Mickey D's. Girl doesn't eat meat. And mebbe they stopped fryin' their fries in beef tallow...quel dommage...but I couldn't say for sure what it is they do to 'em now."</p><p>"You must be feeling better if you're reminiscing about McDonald's french fries," Belle observed dryly.</p><p>"They're just <em>not de same</em>," Remy lamented.</p><p>"There's a breakfast place," Belle said. "Pancakes okay, girl?"</p><p>Storm's stomach let out a growl and she clapped her hands over her midsection with embarrassment. The two adults laughed as Storm gave a chagrined smile.</p><p>"Let me just pull inta de gas station first," Belle told them. "I'll fill it up. Use de pay phone. Hang tight."</p><p>When Belle stepped from the vehicle and closed the door behind her, Storm asked Remy: "How did you know that I do not eat meat?"</p><p>He was silent for a moment, and Storm wondered if he hadn't lapsed back into his time-lost state. "What do you remember...from before you got turned inta a baby girl?"</p><p>Storm was perplexed. "I do not understand you, Remy."</p><p>"You and me are friends, padnat," he told her.</p><p>Storm shook her head and felt a flutter of worry in her stomach. "Of course we are friends," she began. "You saved my life. I am grateful."</p><p>"Ororo," Remy said, his head turning slightly in her direction.</p><p>A tremor went through Storm. "Who-?"</p><p>"Logan," Remy tried again. "Kurt."</p><p>Storm sank back into her seat, her hand on the release of her seatbelt. "Remy, I do not know these names."</p><p>"Kitty. Jean. Piotr. Betsy….Rogue?"</p><p>"Stop it!" Storm shouted, grasped the door latch. When the door did not open, she reached out the open window to release the door from outside.</p><p>"Stormy…" Remy began.</p><p>"Do not call me that!" Storm had opened the door. She ran into the parking lot. The Arkansas landscape was largely flat, empty in the area surrounding the gas station. This exit was just a small waylay station for miles of freeway. Storm thought she could simply ride the winds and fly; Cairo was not so far away. Or...there was a truck driver, she saw him stepping from his vehicle. She began towards him. A ride back in the opposite direction, perhaps? Storm saw the man's eyes size her up as she approached. Her footsteps faltered. She was...remembering something. Something terrible. An assault in a truck, and Storm, suddenly with blood on her hands, struggling out from beneath her attacker's body.</p><p>A hand clasped her arm and Storm turned, her blade raised. Belle's eyes looked down at her. Her chin was lifted, throat exposed to the point of Storm's knife.</p><p>"Thought we gettin' pancakes, padnat?" she asked, her voice low.</p><p>Storm let out a frightened breath, lowered her weapon. "Belle, I am sorry."</p><p>"S'alright," she said. "Know what it's like, t'be a girl on your own. Let's get back to de rental. We gotta get some food in Remy before he turns into a right grouch."</p><p>Belle led Remy from the vehicle. He'd been wearing sunglasses since they'd departed late that afternoon, the three of them having slept for most of the day. Even now in the evening light, he wore them still. Storm had a sense that anti-mutant sentiment was at an all-time high. The gas station's windows had been plastered with signs reading: <em>Do You Know What Your Children Are? </em>followed by the Mutant Registration Act contact information. Storm wore her knit cap over her closely cropped white hair, despite the clement May weather.</p><p>They went into the diner, found seats at a booth in the rear, and were given menus by the hostess. Both Remy and Belle requested coffee.</p><p>"Think you can keep it together long enough to have a short stack, cher?" Belle asked Remy, her tone light but her expression concerned.</p><p>"Can't say," Remy responded, his hands wrapped around his coffee mug. "Don't think I have much cause to pass through Arkansas in dis life or any other, so maybe it'll be okay for now."</p><p>"I'm not followin'," Belle said tiredly. "Remy, can you for once just speak plain?"</p><p>Storm watched Remy consider his answer. Often talking to Remy was like walking into a conversation she'd only just half-heard. She was seated across from the two adults, sipping ice water through a straw.</p><p>"Pretty sure I'm seein' things," Remy said.</p><p>"Well, dat's a good thing, ain't it?" Belle asked. "Your vision's comin' back?"</p><p>"Not seein' things with my eyes, no," Remy continued. "Seeing things like...past and future, maybe? Or different timelines. Realities."</p><p>Belle stared at the side of his face, her expression was one of alarm. "I thought you said your friends helped you wit' your powers?" she asked slowly.</p><p>"I think that jolt Nanny gave me might've crossed some wires," Remy admitted. "Most of de time what I'm seein' is...another version of myself. Like a timeline that is an echo of ours, or vice-a versa. There's a lot of overlap. And when de timelines meet up, it's like I see a thin veil between his reality and mine. I know what he knows, will know."</p><p>"Does he know Esperanto or whatever it is you're mumbling?" Belle asked.</p><p>"I suspect it's some kinda Old Kingdom jibber-jabber," Remy said.</p><p>"Mebbe you're cursed again," Belle suggested, almost hopeful.</p><p>"That'd be an easier fix than seein' multiple realities, for sure," Remy agreed.</p><p>"What is the Old Kingdom?" Storm asked.</p><p>Remy frowned. "Short version: it involves a bunch of hocus pocus. Magic. A whole lotta nonsense. Portents, predictions, most of which involve de end of time. And me, unfortunately."</p><p>"When you first began to speak in tongues..." Storm began, "you said something along the lines of: <em>timelines tangling twisting tearing</em>."</p><p>"Always adored alliteration," Remy said.</p><p>Their waitress brought their orders, placed their food onto the table. Belle arranged Remy's food for him, buttered his toast while he wore a perturbed expression on his face.</p><p>"I am so sorry," Storm told him. "I acted impulsively."</p><p>"For de last time, Stormy," Remy said. "It was an accident. My Tatie says it'll heal on its own. I only hope my sanity holds out dat long."</p><p>"Tante Mattie will heal you up, cher," Belle said. "Mebbe our little Storm Cloud here, too."</p><p>"I do not need a healer—," Storm began but was interrupted.</p><p>"'<em>I wandered lonely as a cloud. That floats on high o'er vales and hills</em>,'" Remy said.</p><p>"Tongues again?" Belle interrupted.</p><p>"Wordsworth, me sha," Remy responded.</p><p>"Your <em>head's </em>in de clouds, Rem," Belle said with fondness.</p><p>Storm smiled as she dumped breakfast syrup onto her pancakes. Her earlier fear of...what was she afraid of anyway...the unknown?...had faded. She was grateful the Goddess crossed her path with these two unusual people. Assassin and thief, or as Remy had told her: the two goodest bad guys she was ever likely to meet.</p><p>"We'd better get back on de road," Belle said after they'd eaten, then poked Remy so he'd let her out of the booth. "I got t'use de little girls' room. C'mon Storm."</p><p>"I do not have-," Storm began.</p><p>"You'd best try!" Belle said and departed for the washrooms. "I ain't stoppin' five minutes down de road!"</p><p>"And she thinks she won't be a good mama," Remy smiled in Storm's direction.</p><p>Night had fallen by the time they'd reached the outskirts of Memphis, Tennessee. Storm could see the faint orange haze of city lights on the skyline. Belle was not planning on stopping again, with exceptions for additional caffeine (or begrudgingly, for bathroom breaks). Remy periodically complained about missing his cigarettes, but otherwise he did not burst into any Old Kingdom jibber-jabber. The two adults picked fights, cajoled and argued, and otherwise entertained one another. Storm was not pressed again about her memories or past.</p><p>Remy sang: "<em>Only the strong survive, only the strong survive...Oh, you've got to be a man, you've got to take a stand</em>-."</p><p>"Now where in de world did that come from?" Belle asked.</p><p>"Elvis' 1969 comeback album, <em>From Elvis in Memphis</em>," Remy replied.</p><p>"Oh my - ugh! How d'you remember <em>that</em> and not t'put de toilet seat down!"</p><p>"It's not de best song on de album, that's for sure. De best-known one goes: <em>And a hungry little boy with a runny nose plays in the street as the cold wind blows. In the ghettoooh</em>."</p><p>"Oh, Lord above!" Belle cried. "Spare me dis!"</p><p>"<em>And his hunger burns….So he starts to roam the streets at night and he learns how to steal, and he learns how to fight. In the ghetto</em>…"</p><p>Belle conceded and echoed: "<em>In the ghettooooh</em>…"</p><p>Storm laughed quietly. She couldn't recall the last time she'd laughed.</p><p>"Stormy likes our duet," Remy observed.</p><p>Storm poked Remy in the shoulder. "Do. Not. Call me. That!"</p><p>"Y'see what you taught her," Remy said to Belle. "Now everybody's gotta jab at me."</p><p>Storm leaned forward in her seat. Up ahead on the two-lane highway was the strobing of red and blue lights. Belle slowed the vehicle.</p><p>"Que pasa?" Remy asked.</p><p>"Looks like a checkpoint," Belle said idly.</p><p>"Quick, we gotta ditch de illegal arms and de kilos of coke!" Remy announced.</p><p>Storm gasped.</p><p>"Remy, she don't know you're joking!" Belle scolded.</p><p>Remy laughed and Storm poked him again. "You'd best sit back and make sure you're buckled in, padnat," Remy told her.</p><p>"Put your hat on, chèrie," Belle added.</p><p>Storm complied, pulled her hat down over her hair, over her ears and tucked stray strands of hair beneath it. There were very few cars in line at the checkpoint. They were third, the first two were given only cursory glances.</p><p>"With luck we'll be waved through," Belle said.</p><p>They were out of luck. Belle looked at Storm. "Our names are Robert and Belinda Lord," she said. "You'll need a name."</p><p><em>Ororo is a name</em>, she thought to herself.</p><p>"How about Wildi?" Remy laughed. "Wildi Windrider."</p><p>"You are for sure not namin' our baby," Belle informed him in a deadpan tone.</p><p>There were a half-dozen police cruisers, a pair of armored vehicles, both with rear doors propped open. An officer approached the driver's side door as Belle rolled the window down.</p><p>"Evenin' ma'am," the officer said, shining a flashlight into the vehicle's interior. The beam of light passed over Storm in the backseat, then back to the two adults in the front. "License and registration?"</p><p>"This is a rental," Belle said, pulled out paperwork from the glove box, handed him an ID.</p><p>"Where you folks heading?" the officer asked idly, looking over her information.</p><p>"Jackson," Belle answered.</p><p>The officer's eyes flicked up to hers. "You got a ways to go," he said. "Got a reason for the trip?"</p><p>Belle's mouth compressed a little, somewhat annoyed. "Family there. Funeral."</p><p>"Was going to say, won't the girl be missing school?" the officer said. He stooped to look at Storm. "What's your name?"</p><p>"Wildi," Storm said. "Wildi Lord."</p><p>The officer's eyes dropped back to Belle's identification. "Adopted, I'm guessing?"</p><p>Belle smiled in a forced-polite sort of way. "Right," she said.</p><p>"Sir?" the officer prompted Remy. "You got your ID on you?"</p><p>"Sure," Remy said. "It's in my back pocket."</p><p>The officer stared at him, Remy did not register this as he could not see. The officer ordered: "Well, then take it out. Slowly."</p><p>Remy lifted himself up from the seat to pull his wallet from his back pocket. He rifled blindly inside the billfold for a moment, looking for the right card.</p><p>"You mind taking off your sunglasses, sir?" the officer asked.</p><p>"He has an eye condition," Belle said, taking the wallet from Remy. She removed his ID, passed it to the officer. "Is there a reason you'd need his license when I'm the one in the driver's seat?"</p><p>"License doesn't say anything about vision impairment," the officer said. He signaled to his partner, handed the two licenses over. "Run these."</p><p>"Do you need me to do a breathalyzer?" Belle asked. "We haven't had anything stronger than coffee, sir."</p><p>"This isn't that kind of checkpoint, ma'am. Sir, would you please remove your sunglasses?"</p><p>Storm's stomach was clenched in a knot. Remy complied, continued to stare forward at nothing.</p><p>"He had an accident. Arc welding," Belle was saying. "He can't see."</p><p>"I'd like you both to step out of the vehicle," the officer said.</p><p>"What is it that you think we've done?" Belle asked.</p><p>"Belinda," Remy warned. "Just do as the man says."</p><p>"Your husband's talking sense," the officer said, he put his hand on the driver's side door handle. "Step out of the vehicle."</p><p>Two more officers were approaching. Storm swallowed, unsure of what to do. Both Remy and Belle stepped out of the car.</p><p>"Hands on the hood of the car," Belle was directed.</p><p>"Now, what is this-," Belle began.</p><p>"Hands on the hood of the car," the officer repeated more forcefully. He nodded to two other officers who approached Remy on the opposite side.</p><p>One of them shone his flashlight into Remy's face. He didn't blink or move.</p><p>"Hey, sarge, you ought to check this out," one of the officers called.</p><p>"You stay put," the sergeant told Belle. She was in the middle of being searched. Storm hoped she did not have her weapons on her, but thought it likely that she did. Storm's own dagger was in her boot. The sergeant approached Remy. Looked him in the face.</p><p>"Sir, you have <em>any other form</em> of registration on you?" he asked.</p><p>"I don't know what you mean," Remy responded. Storm noted that both Belle and Remy had lost all trace of their accents.</p><p>"You know what the MRA is all about, don't you?" the officer persisted. When Remy did not respond he spoke to the other two officers. "Go activate the scanner. Take the girl, put her in one of the wagons. We'll question her separate."</p><p>Remy spoke then, a note of hostility in his voice: "You can't question a minor without a guardian present."</p><p>Belle called out from where she still stood with her hands on the hood of the car. "You have no cause to do this!"</p><p>One officer had departed for the armored vehicle. The other was jiggling the handle to the rear passenger door. "Open up," the man called to Storm through the glass.</p><p>Storm's gaze went from Belle to Remy.</p><p>"You got any proof this girl actually belongs to you?" the sergeant asked Belle, then turned to Remy.</p><p>"Since when do we put licenses on kids, like dogs?" Remy asked. It was clear he was becoming more irate with each passing moment.</p><p>"It's clear that colored kid is not yours," the officer by Storm's window said, he leaned down to peer at her through the glass. "And if she <em>is</em> adopted, well, bless your heart, aren't you a saint."</p><p>The expression on Remy's face was one Storm had not seen, nor thought to ever see. It was a look of absolute rage.</p><p>"<em>Robert</em>, honey-." Now Belle was the one trying to calm him down.</p><p>The two law enforcement officers by the vehicle must have sensed a sudden charge in the air. Though Remy's eyes remained black as pitch, there seemed something decidedly threatening about them now.</p><p>"I'm going to ask you to lie down on the pavement," the sergeant said, his hand on his holster. "On the pavement, hands behind your head."</p><p>Storm climbed into the front seat, pushed open the passenger door. "No!" she cried, then at a loss as to what her role could be in this charade called: "Mom! Dad!"</p><p>Remy paused then, took a breath. Slowly he raised his hands to the back of his head. Dropped to a knee. Storm was seized from behind. "Remove your hands from me at once!" she cried.</p><p>Something was coming out of the back of one of the armored vehicles. Something vaguely humanoid, but decidedly mechanical. Other officers were stepping from cruisers now to approach them. Storm could hear the squawk of police scanners and radios. One or two of the officers had hands on their hips or tasers in their grips.</p><p><em>If Remy is tasered, what will happen then?</em> Storm wondered. She was being pulled back. The sergeant had not waited until Remy was prostrated on the ground, instead he pushed him forward by the shoulder. Put a knee in his upper back. Handcuffs were produced. Storm struggled and the first officer who grabbed her was joined by a second.</p><p>Belle had two officers on her now, forcing her over the hood of the car.</p><p>"Hands on your head!" several voices called to her. In the floodlights illuminating the checkpoint, Storm could see Belle's expression was steely, but when her eyes found Storm's they softened. She willingly complied with the orders.</p><p>Storm continued to fight however. She was being forcibly dragged to the second armored vehicle. The robotic monstrosity that had emerged from the first wagon neared her.</p><p><em>Performing scan</em>, an electronic voice announced from within its body. <em>Mutant signature detected.</em></p><p>"We got one," said the first officer incredulously. "I'd a never thought it!"</p><p>"Seems that tip from Illinois was right," said the second. Storm was roughly manhandled, forced to bend over into the rear of the armored vehicle. Her legs kicked. She found her arms twisted behind her back, zip ties tightened around her wrists.</p><p>One officer climbed into the rear of the vehicle, pulled Storm inside. She let loose a volley of largely ineffective sparks. The officer cried out, hopped from the vehicle. "Tase that freak!"</p><p>Storm had fallen to the floor. The second officer said: "She's just a kid."</p><p>Storm found herself pepper sprayed instead. She gagged, coughed spasmodically. Her eyes burned and streamed.</p><p>Outside there came several shouts. <em>Mutant signature detected. Mutant signature detected.</em> The machine intoned.</p><p>"Shit, shit!"</p><p>"There's fucking <em>three </em>of them?"</p><p>"Don't you fucking move! Don't either of you fucking move!"</p><p>"Radio backup."</p><p>"We are not resisting!" Belle cried. "Stop it!"</p><p>"She has weapons on her!"</p><p>"Shoot the bitch."</p><p>"Fuck, she's fucking-she's pregnant!"</p><p>"Shoot her twice."</p><p>Storm struggled into an upright position only to be knocked backwards by an explosion that rocked the armored car. It was followed by the sound of gunfire. <em>Remy</em>, she thought. <em>Belle, oh no. </em></p><p>The sound of screaming. Then...snarling. Something banged against the doors of the wagon. Then the whole vehicle shook. Storm struggled, the ties on her wrists cutting deep into her skin. Panicked, feeling trapped, she was out of her mind with terror. Storm screamed, over and over again, her voice echoing against steel walls. She had to escape, she must get free!</p><p>Suddenly, she recalled herself trapped aboard Nanny's ship, struggling against the bonds that held her. Nanny telling her she would not remember, that she would begin life anew. As one of Nanny's little orphans. Except Storm was not a child. She was an adult, her body forcibly, painfully reduced to childhood. The names came back to her now, not painfully familiar, but familiar as in <em>family. </em>Logan, Kurt, Kitty, Jean, Piotr, Betsy, Rogue. Storm screamed out again, this time not in panic. Electric current flowed over her body, melting her bonds, crackling against the interior of the armored car.</p><p>The doors were suddenly thrown open. At the exit, the sergeant. His eyes were wild, inhuman. He was flanked by a pair of Hounds. Storm summoned a blast of wind, blowing her adversaries away in a twirling tornado. She called the winds back to her and took flight. Her eyes scanned the scene, searching for her friends. Gambit, Remy LeBeau. His wife, BellaDonna Boudreaux. She knew them now, from their letters, from hers and Logan's visit to New Orleans at Mardi Gras, just this February last.</p><p>Their rental vehicle was overturned, smoking from an explosion. The robotic scanner, a Sentinel, Storm now recalled its name, was destroyed. Only its legs stood now on the pavement. Hounds were attacking everything in sight, officers, each other. One went spinning away, a dagger in its chest. Storm turned to see Belle on top of the other armored van. She summoned a gout of flame which sent two more Hounds fleeing. Storm called a lightning bolt, disabled the spotlights illuminating the scene. There was Gambit, moving like a shadow between flashing police cars. She saw a Hound and a pair of possessed officers coming at him from behind. He did not see them.</p><p>Storm shouted a warning, fear gripped her chest. Then, something else. A clawing sensation in her skull. The brain-freeze cold of The Shadow King, the Evil One. His laughter possessive, deeply satisfied as he strove to claim her mind.</p><p>"No!" Storm cried. "You-will-not!"</p><p>She could see him now, see herself outside her body. Here on the Astral Plane she was an adult, a child no more. The astral projection of the Shadow King was horrifying to behold. His wicked claws, oversized hands, claimed her body. His gruesome mouth opened, intending to swallow her. Her force of will caused him to slow, slavering jaws wide. His eyes glowed bright, sickly green. But then his head snapped sharply to the left. Something had struck his great horned skull, a booted foot. Storm gasped. BellaDonna was there, fully clad in knight's armor. Like a vision of the patron Saint of New Orleans, Jean d'Arc. Belle swung her sword and the Shadow King fell back. Storm found herself released.</p><p>"Enh, Rougarou! You good at trackin' down little girls wit' Hounds. But let's see what happens when ya take on these two hot bitches!" The sword she bore swung in an arc over her head to flash downwards. The Shadow King retreated.</p><p>"You may have caught me off guard," the Shadow King intoned, slunk backwards into the swirling tumult of the Astral Plane. "I will know for next time. The Shadow King...does not forget…"</p><p>Storm found herself back in her child-body. Helicopters were thumping overhead, spotlights searching. Belle was at her side, helping her into an upright position. "You...you are able to traverse the Astral Plane?" Storm asked her.</p><p>"Is that what'cha call it? I just use it for spyin' on my husband," Belle grinned at her. "C'mon, let's make tracks."</p><p>"Where is Gambit?" Storm asked. She was answered by a large explosion that destroyed the blockade crossing the street.</p><p>An unmarked police car suddenly reversed in front of them, rear-ending a police cruiser.</p><p>"Oopsie," Gambit said, his hands on the steering wheel, a pair of handcuffs dangled from his wrist.</p><p>"Shove over!" Belle announced. She hauled open the rear driver's side door, then climbed into the driver's seat as Gambit slid over to the passenger side. Storm launched herself into the backseat, slammed the door as Belle took off down the highway, wheels screaming on the pavement.</p><p>"Whoo!" Gambit said as he was thrown back into his seat. "How's dat for horsepower!"</p><p>"Up ahead, two oncoming cruisers," Belle said. She issued a direction and a distance.</p><p>Gambit pulled himself through the passenger side window to sit on the ledge. He had apparently appropriated one of the officer's firearms.</p><p>Storm was about to protest when he fired twice. He must have changed the rounds. The explosions lit up the pavement ahead, the screaming police cruisers hit their brakes. Too late, they were brought to an abrupt halt as they fell into the gaping wounds in the street. Belle swerved to avoid the pitfalls. Gambit was nearly ejected from his perch. Storm dove forward to grasp him by the coat, pull him back inside.</p><p>"We got to do somethin' about those whirlybirds," Belle said.</p><p>"I ain't shootin' down a chopper," Gambit told her.</p><p>"Allow me," Storm said, lowering her own window. She leaned out, looking up at the pair of helicopters. She summoned the winds which pushed the choppers up and away. They bobbed, attempting to steady themselves. Strong gusts forced them to ground themselves in a nearby field. Storm called up a dense fog and they disappeared into it.</p><p>Their car sped into the night, weaving through vehicles like a needle through fabric. Traveling so fast, the other vehicles they passed looked as if they were parked. Heading toward the city of Memphis, losing themselves in over and underpasses, on ramps, bridges over the river sparkling with the reflections of city lights, then finally city streets. They abandoned the vehicle in an alley.</p><p>"So, we gonna check out Graceland while we're here?" Remy asked. The stony silence the two women gave him served as an answer. "Oh, fine. Party poopers. We can still get barbecue, right?"</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next time: A brief discussion involving next steps. Chapter Six will be a family reunion...of sorts.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They were settled into a pair of hotel rooms in downtown Memphis, where Ororo was about to take a much-needed bath. No longer afraid that their seemingly young charge would flee at the earliest opportunity, Ororo now had her own room, attached to Remy’s and Belle’s suite via a door. Ororo suspected the honeymooners were enthusiastic about having a room to themselves as well, if the sounds Ororo heard from the adjacent room were any indication. She shook her head and smiled, let the bathtub fill to drown out the noise. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ororo needed to parse her thoughts. Her memories now restored, she thought to contact her fellow X-Men. However, she did not know their current whereabouts. After the Goblin Queen’s assault on New York City and the subsequent destruction, the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters had been reduced to rubble. Horrifying that their dear friend and Scott’s wife, Madelyne Pryor, while having survived the plane crash, had been pushed beyond the brink and into madness. Sinister, it seemed, had proven harder to depose and his threats of imminent return were fulfilled. His machinations drove Maddie to insanity, to attempt to sacrifice the life of her own son Christopher...to demons for power, no less. It was a horror beyond imagining.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ororo knew that Katherine Pryde and Kurt Wagner, possibly Piotr Rasputin as well, were on a small island off the coast of Scotland, Muir Island, along with a group of expatriated Morlocks. They were recovering from injuries sustained from the Goblin Queen’s attack. Kitty and Kurt had co-founded a new team of mutants named Excalibur in Britain, alongside Elisabeth Braddock’s brother, Brian, aka Captain Britain. X-Factor was similarly far afield, from what Storm recalled, their home base in New York City had been destroyed with the fallout from the demon attack. Storm imagined Logan had likely taken charge of her team of X-Men, and likewise did not know of their current exploits. She imagined her wisest decision would be to contact Kitty and Kurt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once she had finished her bath and donned the terrycloth robe offered by the hotel room, Ororo returned to her suite. Embarrassing how long the robe appeared on her small body. She had another thought regarding her next steps. Someone who was closer to Memphis than any of her other friends and allies. Though the thought of him seeing her in her current state filled her with no small amount of trepidation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a knock on the door adjoining the two suites. Ororo cautiously opened it. Remy was standing on the opposite side, his hair more disheveled than usual. His clothing was no more or less as oddly paired as ever, but perhaps his current blindness could be used as an excuse. He grinned at her. The room behind him was dark. Belle was sprawled in the middle of the king-sized mattress, mostly hidden from view by a tumble of bedclothes. She appeared to be asleep. Ororo raised her pale eyebrows and regarded Remy archly. Her expression was lost on him. His blind gaze was unfocused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mind if I come in?” he asked.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ororo took a step back and Remy slipped into her room. He felt his way over to her bed, sat on the edge of the mattress. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Glad t’have you back, Stormy,” Remy told her. “We weren’t sure what t’do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You both knew,” Ororo said. “You knew who I was all along?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not all along, but after Nanny mentioned some de-aging chamber, we could put two-and-two t’gether,” he responded. “I thought t’call Logan, but for one, I don’t know where he is, and for two, I didn’t know how you’d react.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ororo nodded, disappointed that Remy did not know where the X-Men were either. “I have been thinking,” she began. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That never goes well for me,” Remy interrupted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I may have a potential solution for our problematic situations. My de-aged form. Your visions and Old Kingdom incantations.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m listenin’,” Remy said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have a...contact...in Dallas, Texas,” Ororo said slowly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remy’s smile widened. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why are you wearing that ridiculous expression?” Ororo asked with irritation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm, your </span>
  <em>
    <span>contact</span>
  </em>
  <span>…he de one with de copper colored complexion, de Tinker Toy leg, and de cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass?” Even without the familiar glow in his eyes, Remy looked positively devilish.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ororo crossed her arms and assumed an imperious expression, then caught her reflection in the mirror and realized how ridiculous she appeared. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Logan might’ve filled me in. What a gossip,” Remy continued in an airy, all-knowing tone. “Seein’ as how you are...not without your own charms, but certainly without your feminine wiles, I’m wonderin’ how you’ll convince your ex to lend a mechanized helpin’ hand?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gambit,” Ororo’s tone was a warning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t get me wrong, he a </span>
  <em>
    <span>handsome </span>
  </em>
  <span>fella. Could be persuaded t’switch teams. Maybe </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> could sweet-talk your--!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ororo zapped him with a bolt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ow! Hey! I’m only offerin’ my assistance!” he cried, trying to smooth his hair. It crackled. “You’re lucky you didn’t get an earful of dire future predictions!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You. Are---!” Ororo began.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait for it…!” Remy said, held his breath and bit his lower lip in anticipation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ororo huffed out a frustrated breath. “I will not even give you the satisfaction!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remy deflated. “C’mon, Stormy! ‘Corrigible me!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ororo had never met a person who could cause her more frustration. She threw her hands up in despair and walked a few paces away, lest she impulsively try to smother her friend with a pillow. “Forge may be able to create a device to restore me to my proper form,” she said finally. There, she had spoken his name. “And perhaps with some encouragement and empathy towards your dilemma, use his shamanistic powers. Provide consultation, a recommendation.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like a pretty good lead, padnat,” Remy said. “Dallas, enh? A two-hour flight thereabouts.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We would need proper identification,” Ororo told him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remy waved that aside, indicating he thought procuring new identities to be no bother. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We may be recognized,” Ororo added. “And your sudden outbursts could prove cause for alarm aboard a flight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Remy considered this. “Ugh. A six, seven-hour drive then. Doable, I suppose. As long as</span>
  <em>
    <span> I </span>
  </em>
  <span>have control over de stereo.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The road-traveling trio would later discover that getting into Dallas would take a lot more than just the expenditure of time. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next time: Timelines twisting, etc. And...the reunion you've been waiting for.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Will you stop hummin’ that damn theme song?” Belle asked with frustration.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t help it,” Remy replied. “Everythin’ I know about Dallas, I learned from de </span>
  <em>
    <span>tee</span>
  </em>
  <span>-vee show.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know why Tante Mattie let you watch so much </span>
  <em>
    <span>tee</span>
  </em>
  <span>-vee,” Belle told him. “It’s rotted your brain.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Kept me quiet for an hour or so. Said she needed time to gather her wits. For de longest time, I thought that meant she was washin’ a load of whites.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“God bless that poor woman,” Belle murmured. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Remy heard Ororo laugh quietly. He wished he could see her face, see her smile. He was also desperate to see her regal bearing, her expressions of exasperation toward him, appear on a child-sized form. Unfortunately, it seemed that was not to be. Remy had a vague sense of very bright light, but for the most part he saw nothing. It made the random visions of crossed realities all the more apparent. Much harder to ignore. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He had a momentary respite in their hotel room when he placed an overseas call to Scotland. He was delighted to converse with Miss Kitty Pryde (an easy target), formerly of X-Men Original, and currently in a new X-Franchise known as Excalibur.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Strange women lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a new system...</span>
  </em>
  <span>of mutants,” Remy paraphrased in a British accent.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my gosh, Remy. Do you know what time it is here? What do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>want?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Kitty said. He could almost hear her eyes rolling. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He sang: “I know something you don’t know!” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to hang up.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“And now, here’s something we hope you’ll really like!” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Katherine,” Ororo said into the phone. “I apologize, I could not wrest the receiver from him in time.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Storm!?” Remy could hear Kitty scream through the receiver, though his ear was no longer pressed to it. “We thought you’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>died!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Your voice! It sounds weird! Are you okay? Did Gambit kidnap you!?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Hilarity ensued. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we dere yet?” Remy asked, trying to situate himself in a more comfortable position. After seven hours, he’d been sitting too long.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m about t’put you in de backseat and have just us adults sit up here!” Belle said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Storm laughed again. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m keepin’ Stormy entertained at de very least,” Remy replied.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Ain’t you gonna zap him again?” Belle asked Storm hopefully. “For callin’ you ‘Stormy’?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I must conserve my strength,” Ororo replied drolly.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Remy laughed. “I have her on de ropes!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t think I won’t set your ass on fire,” Belle informed him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Now why’d you want to go and punish yourself, ma belle?” Remy asked. “It’d be </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>loss. The world’s, really.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Belle dropped a bag into his lap. “Eat some candy,” she told him. “Chew some gum. Just shut your yap!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Dis nicotine gum ain’t doin’ nothing for me,” Remy complained, riffling through the bag and trying to figure out what package was which by feel alone.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I might as well let you smoke yourself into an early grave if it gave me a minute of peace!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t quit for you or me. I’m doin’ it for little Marie-Antoinette.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“We ain’t namin’ de baby after some stuck-up royal tart,” Belle said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Marie-Magdalene.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No! She’s not a nun either!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Marie-Jeanne?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm,” Belle said, momentarily considering something. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Am I on to somethin’?” Remy asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What in tarnation is dat?” Belle asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Like a combo of your dad’s name and mine. Jeanne-Marie is also acceptable.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No! Not the name!” Ororo interrupted. “There is a disturbance, up in the sky!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it a bird? Is it a plane?” Remy asked, confused.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Remy! Shut. UP!” Belle was slowing their vehicle, parking alongside the highway. Considering the last time they were stopped, Remy did not like that at all. He cast his senses about, hoping for some clue as to what was going on.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“There is a---like a huge rip---in the sky!” Belle said. “With light pourin’ out. The rest, the rest is all black. Everyone’s tearin’ out of de city in the outbound.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why we stopped if there’s no traffic inbound?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Because there’s a huge swamp,” Belle explained, “just up ahead.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Is dis some kind of weather thing? Natural disaster?” Remy asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No, my friend,” Ororo replied. “Though it does appear to be snowing, this is not a natural occurrence of inclement weather.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Is dat your weather witch powers speakin’?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No, cher. I can see it too. Dinosaurs are not a weather pattern you’re gonna hear Willard Scott talkin’ ‘bout,” Belle said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s dinosaurs!?” Remy asked, alarmed. He complained: “And I can’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>see ‘em!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Do we turn back?” Belle asked Ororo.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“My friend, Forge,” Ororo replied. “This is his home. He is at the Aerie…”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, we’ll go see if we can find him,” Belle replied. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“The tallest tower,” Ororo said and presumably pointed. “That is Eagle Plaza.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re goin’ to have to walk,” Belle said, Remy thought, in his direction. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t we ride a dinosaur?” he asked, then opened the car door.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want t’stay with the car?” Belle asked, not meanly. But considerately. Remy would have preferred the mean version. They were all standing outside of the vehicle now.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not about t’stay here,” he said. But at the same time, he’d probably prove himself to be a hindrance and a danger to the two women if he went along. He said: “Don’t worry about me. I’ll figure it out.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I will fly ahead,” Storm said and Remy felt the wind pick up. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, padnat,” Belle replied. “Don’t get too far ahead, now.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Once Storm had departed, Belle told him: “Remy, this don’t look good at all. Storm said dis man’s a shaman? Can’t be a coincidence then, that there’s some magical hole in de sky, over his house.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“We let Excalibur know where we were headin’,” Remy replied. “Hopefully, Kitty can track de X-Men down. Regardless, somethin’ like dis is gonna bring some supes outta de woodwork. We’ll have backup, I’m sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s good, ‘cause me and you aren’t meant for magical, supernatural, or otherwise freaky-deaky disasters on a global scale,” Belle said and began to walk. Remy followed in her footsteps. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Ma belle, me and you are in cosmic alignment,” he said. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s really a blessing you can’t see all dis, sha,” Belle said quietly. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It was going to be a long walk, but after being in the car so long, Gambit truly didn’t mind. What he did mind was occasionally tripping over or bumping into things. They were able to walk along the highway as there was no one driving on it. Cars were abandoned haphazardly on the pavement. Lake Ray Hubbard was now a swamp where dinosaurs congregated. It seemed a risky thing to traverse the bridge, but Storm, upon her return, assured them the creatures seemed peaceful enough. No T-Rex’s apparently. Scratch that, Storm returned again to say the Tyrannosaur was at the mall eating the food court.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They came to a country club overrun with a herd of mustangs and bison. Belle informed Remy there were several men dressed as cowboys on horseback. And a pair of very authentically dressed Native Americans who sat on painted ponies surveilling the cowboys from afar. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“And I’m gonna guess they aren’t historical reenactors,” Gambit said. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Think we can trade something for a horse?” Belle asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Our wedding rings?” Gambit suggested. Belle poked him. “Well, I don’t think they’ll be interested in a Cézanne.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Belle offered the curious indigenous people a pair of knives, gestured to a horse hobbled nearby. An agreement was made. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Pokey and Mr. Stabby were my favorites,” Belle complained. Gambit boosted her onto the horse’s back. Propelled himself up behind her. The horse startled a bit but calmed as Gambit spoke to it. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Why your knives all misters, Belle?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Because they’re all little pricks,” Belle responded.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope you know I am going to have you every way a man can have a woman at de first available opportunity.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope you know I am willing and prepared to bend over backwards t’make dat happen, Remy.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Storm was somewhat surprised to find them on horseback when she returned. Having a new set of legs and eyes certainly helped prevent Gambit from falling into any sinkholes.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Any clue as to what’s goin’ on, Stormy?” Gambit asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I do not dare approach the source of this chaos by air,” Storm began. “As we travel closer to Eagle Plaza, there is only more destruction and confusion. Several warring tribes, seemingly from different eras. Vikings, Maasai warriors, Han military, U.S. Army, and fighters from conflicts yet-to-be. It is bedlam. There are...numerous human casualties.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“How much farther out are we?” Belle asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I would estimate approximately fifteen miles,” Storm replied. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go, pretty pony,” Gambit said, and tapped the horse’s sides with his heels.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They started off at a fast trot, then a slow lope. They were still in suburbia, passing housing developments, then chain stores and strip malls. Storm indicated they should detour at a major intersection between the interstate and a highway, as the upcoming Chevy dealership was launching flaming refuse and scrap metal via trebuchet at the Toyota dealership, which was retaliating with energy beams. They found themselves at a sprawling golf course and Belle and Remy let the horse run full out over smooth grass.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Comin’ up on a patch of trees, cher,” Belle told him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, they were brought up short when the horse reared and turned, nearly throwing the pair from their seats.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Belle!” Gambit called.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone’s throwin’ spears,” Belle answered. “All across our path.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’s Storm?” Gambit asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Here,” came her voice from above. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>There was some exclamation from the surrounding trees, male and female voices. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Arsálu! Dimanthu!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Gambit saw a flash, like an aura from an oncoming migraine, and the muttering of long-forgotten words filled his head.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Lookin’ like a bunch of dirty hippies over here,” Belle said. “With Iron Age weapons. Actually, that one is de spittin’ image of your cousin.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Which one, de mean one or de nice one?” Gambit asked, trying to calm the horse as it nervously circled. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Emil, the weird one.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Chère, they all weird. S’iach brāteres!” Gambit announced.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you just say?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m hopin’ ‘good health brothers.’ Or it might’ve been: hey, you bunch of drunken bears.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>There seemed to be much muttered confusion amongst the group, by Gambit’s estimate, perhaps two dozen members strong. They were all talking at once. It was sort of like a family reunion. From Belle’s description, all he could imagine was a group of people looking like his cousin; long red-blond hair, goateed, fair skin given to freckles. Not tall, not stout either, but long-limbed and well-built.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay back!” Storm commanded, and was followed by a crack of thunder. Several shouts could be heard. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Móruch drúidh!” Gambit told them, pointed in Storm’s general direction.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are you comin’ up with this stuff?” Belle asked with alarm.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Gambit, what did you say to them?” Storm asked. From what Gambit could ascertain, she had landed nearby. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I might’ve told ‘em you were a girl priestess.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Belle said: “Thinkin’ this one wants to sacrifice himself to you, ‘Ro.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No! Do not do that! Stop! Please put down your weapon!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Arsálu!” Gambit added, and when Storm did not implore the person further, he assumed the man had obeyed his order to stop. Then to Belle: “Chère, I think these are my people.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“They argue like your people,” Belle said idly.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Ródhl,” Gambit called, he pulled off his wedding ring. It was a gold ring, quite old (okay, technically ancient) and decorated in a pattern of swirls.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What de hell do you think you’re doin’?” Belle said hotly.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, Belle, dis here thing belonged to my daddy, his daddy, and so on. And considerin’ how their two marriages worked out, I’m like to think it’s cursed,” he told her. “You can steal me a new one later if you like, like a proper thief-wife. Now, which one’s de leader?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“None of ‘em,” Belle said. “Looks like a rag tag bunch ‘a misfits.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“My guess is the one in the rear,” Storm said. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Heh, jus’ like a thief t’hide,” Belle commented, sotto voce. “Ow!” Gambit had poked her, hard. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Ródhl, ródhl,” he said again, gave the ring to Storm. “Here, go gift him dat.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I got ya covered, chèrie,” Belle told her. The firearm Gambit had stolen from the police officer was behind her back. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Storm departed amidst the murmuring group; apparently they were offering their obeisance. She returned. “He is following,” she told Gambit.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The man announced from a small distance: “Dusios!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No, nope. Né dusios,” he replied. It seemed people assumed he was the devil no matter what time period they came from. “Parisii toṷtā.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Apparently, this was a satisfactory answer because the man grunted. The Parisii clan must not currently be at war with the leader’s own.  It was a lucky break, considering the Gauls spent more time fighting amongst themselves and not uniting against the Romans, leading to their eventual destruction.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Dái ródhl?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Dái, dái,” the man said, agreeing that the gift was good. The man added: “Daga uimpi.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope, not gonna happen,” Gambit said, putting his arms protectively around Belle.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What’d he say?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“He thinks you're hot,” Gambit told Belle. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Gambit continued: “Gwórethwiran, ma harwéra í adhú. Ernu tur.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The leader considered this polite request for help, guidance to the Eagle Tower. Gambit was imagining the leader with his own father’s face, stoic as usual, betraying nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you seen any whoresons of Caesar?” the leader finally asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Stormy,” Gambit asked. “You happen upon any Romans while you were out and about?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“A small cadre,” Storm said. “In the direction we are traveling.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a small group of them,” Gambit translated for the Gaul. “West and then south of here. Heading towards the Eagle Tower.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The leader called to his people: “We are tasked with the honor of escorting the Druid Priestess and her contingent to the Eagle’s Nest! And we are going to strike down those cock-sucking Roman bastards and send them to their Hades!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Death to Caesar! Death to the Romans! Glory for Gaul!” cried the group, albeit not all at once. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“They seem pretty happy now, cher,” Belle commented. “And they all takin’ off their shirts. They </span>
  <em>
    <span>are </span>
  </em>
  <span>your people, after all.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What are de odds of us runnin’ into these folks out here?” Gambit asked. “Must be my lucky day!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Every day is </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> lucky day!” called a voice from the trees. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Several spears must have flown in the voice’s direction because he taunted: “Ya missed me!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Belle aimed her sidearm. “Miss this, mullethead!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop!” Storm cried. “Do not shoot! Lower your weapons. This man is a friend!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Storm!” declared the voice, young-sounding and in an accent Gambit had never heard before. “Wow, look at you!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Longshot,” Storm answered. “Yes. Please do not mention my condition.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s dis guy now?” Belle asked Gambit.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Y’got me,” Gambit replied. “You got a description?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Skinny boy, blond. Black leather. Glowing eye….very easy on </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>eye, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’d be the first to find you,” Longshot said, approaching their group. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, technically, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>was de first to find her,” Gambit said, annoyed.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t quibble with him, cher. It’s like kickin’ a puppy.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I hate dogs.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Shh!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Who are they?” Longshot asked Storm. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“This is Belle and Gambit. My friends, this is Longshot,” Storm said. “And this group of warriors has offered to bring us to Eagle Plaza.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re heading that way too,” Longshot replied.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he talkin’ like a royal ‘we’?” Gambit asked Belle.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No, there’s someone else comin’,” Belle said. “A woman. Let’s see. I’d say, de lovechild of Debbie Harry and David Bowie.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Now </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’d like t’see,” Gambit said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“We can hear you, you know,” said the woman in an annoyed, but at the same time melodious, voice.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Daga uimpi,” said the clan leader again. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, </span>
  <span>brātīr</span>
  <span>. That’s a no-go,” Gambit told him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Alison!” Storm said, her voice pleased. “Are the other X-Men here?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve got a whole party,” Alison said. “Some are search and rescue. Some are putting out fires. Some are beating up dinosaurs or barbarians. If you hadn’t already realized, things are ca-ray-zee around here.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Y’think we can walk and talk at de same time?” Gambit asked. “My friends here are yearnin’ to put a hurtin’ on some Roman jerks.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, let us continue on to Eagle Plaza,” Storm said. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s where everyone’s supposed to meet up,” Longshot said. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Forge?” Storm prompted as they began to head West, the little band of Gauls out front.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Trapped in the Aerie,” Alison said. “Trying to figure out how to close the giant demon portal in the sky.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“But, who is behind this disturbance?” Storm asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“A chaos demon named The Adversary,” Alison explained. “He’s possessed, maybe killed, Forge’s mentor, Nazé. The Adversary is up there, somewhere in that hole in the sky. Along with a prisoner. A goddess named Roma, of the omniverse.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, demons!” Belle said happily, then: “Dammit, all my blades are gone!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you like to use some of mine?” Longshot kindly offered.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Why, thank you, mon brave!” Belle said in a tone of voice quite unlike any Remy’d ever heard from her.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What in de world is de matter wit’ you?” Gambit asked her.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that happens when women meet me. Sort of a love-at-first-sight thing,” Longshot explained as if this were perfectly normal. Gambit heard the clink of metal on metal as blades were turned over to Belle.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Gross,” Gambit muttered. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You can be pretty charmin’ yourself, when you want t’be,” Belle told Gambit.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not like it’s a power,” Gambit argued. “De gift of gab is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>a mutant ability.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“If you say so,” Belle said dubiously.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“If it were, then why do ninety-nine point nine percent of de people I meet think I’m a jerk?” Gambit countered. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Jealousy,” Belle answered. “Just plain jealousy for your raw, undeniable talent and amazing good looks.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re makin’ fun of me.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Who are these people again?” Alison asked Storm.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Please do not regard them at face value, they mean no offense,” Storm said. “They march to the beat of a different drum.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“So, aside from the demons we have another situation,” Alison continued. “Freedom Force.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Both Belle and Gambit gave twin snorts, suppressing derisive laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Mystique’s team?” Storm asked. “But why?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Apparently they are hunting down some mutants who failed to register for the MRA,” Alison said. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Then they came looking for us,” Storm said gravely. “We were stopped at a checkpoint.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“But happily, we are all getting along!” Longshot said. “A truce. They’re helping us with the dinosaur slash barbarian slash demon situation.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Considering how bad things went for me and Longshot the </span>
  <em>
    <span>last </span>
  </em>
  <span>demon invasion,” Alison said. “We’re on scouting duty.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Longshot said glumly. He immediately brightened: “But hey! We’ve found Storm, so now we’ll be heroes!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You were always heroes, my friends,” Storm said warmly.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They were suddenly brought up short by the sound of gunfire. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Dusios! Dusios!” came several shouts. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Demons up ahead,” Gambit said. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Allons-y!” Belle cried and kicked the horse. Gambit clung to her as they suddenly surged ahead of the group. She placed the sidearm into his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They rounded a corner and Belle jerked the horse to a sudden stop. “Not demons!” she cried.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What---what are they?” Gambit asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Neanderthals!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, so </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>family then!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He was elbowed in the ribs. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re attackin’ some humans in a van!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Point de way!” Gambit said, raising the firearm. Belle adjusted his positioning, aimed his wrist.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Fire,” she said calmly.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Gambit built a carefully placed charge, pulled the trigger and even he could see a dim flash of light, feel the force of the explosion on his face that tore at his hair. He grinned.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Fire,” Belle said again. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Another explosion. The cries of victims who then turned and ran screaming away.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re headin’ for de hills, cher,” Belle told him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They were soon joined by the rest of their party. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay back, you...you freaks!” cried a voice, female.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Was dis trip necessary?” Gambit asked rhetorically.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop Manoli,” replied another unfamiliar voice, a male. “They just saved our lives.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oo!” Longshot said. “Are we on television?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t start, babe,” Alison told him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s goin’ on?” Gambit asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Looks like reporters,” Belle said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re with NPR,” the man said. “I’m Neal Conan.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You guys owe me a tote bag!” Gambit snapped.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Radio,” Storm clarified. “But this is a satellite truck. Television.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve commandeered it. I’m afraid...the reporters we found are dead.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Everyone deserves to know what you people are doing out here! The disaster </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’ve </span>
  </em>
  <span>caused,” the woman, Manoli, said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>You people’</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Gambit muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d better </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>be putting me on camera, girlie,” Belle snarled.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You had best come with us,” Storm told the journalists. “It is not safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Great, first mutants, now we’re being ordered around by a tween girl,” Manoli complained. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Belle turned the horse’s head away from the journalists. “Let’s ditch dese jerks,” she said. “They can fend for themselves.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Belle---,” Gambit began, though he agreed with Belle’s sentiment, he was certain the X-Folks would frown on that sort of thing.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps you can yet fulfill your duties as journalists,” Storm told the pair, her voice commanding, in spite of her apparent age. “You are correct. The people are owed the truth...of </span>
  <em>
    <span>what it is we do</span>
  </em>
  <span>. We will escort you to the eye of the storm.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Some cajones on dis girl,” Belle said. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Gambit smiled. “Thinkin’ we better lissen t’her.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The journalists, along with Longshot and Alison, climbed into the satellite truck. Storm once again took flight. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, toṷtā,” Gambit told his tribe. “If you’re still up for the challenge? No one’s gonna blame you for turning tail.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“We choose to follow the woman-child. It is true our own women are our fiercest warriors. They are a terror to the Romans,” the clan leader said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Some men can’t handle a strong woman,” Gambit said and the horse set off at a brisk trot. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The leader cried: “Onward, Dusios! We serve the greater cause! Towards a time of true peace. The Old Kingdom will return!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Gambit wasn’t too sure about that last part. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>As they reached the shadow of Eagle Plaza, the dispersion of fighting and chaos was well underway. The combined efforts of the X-Men and Freedom Force had cleared the area of fighting, thankfully captured on camera by the two journalists. Belle dismounted, leaving Gambit on horseback. He was unsure what he would do without the animal serving as his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Loh---er, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wolverine</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Belle cried, heeding the presence of the journalists. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Belle?” Wolverine replied. “Shadowcat never said you were...Well, well. Look what happened to you! You--you’re…”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“If you say ‘glowing,’ I’m gonna stick you full of holes!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I was going to say ‘sweaty,’” Wolverine said and presumably called to Gambit: “What the hell, Cajun? When did this happen?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d guess ‘round Mardi Gras time,” Gambit replied, grinning in what he hoped was Wolverine’s direction. “Musta been your wild animal virility in de air.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Gambit,” said a voice at his side. “Give me your hand.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Is dat your dulcet tones, Posh?” Gambit said, reaching down a hand to take another and sliding from the horse’s back.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Your eyes…?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I know right, you miss staring into my lipid pools of hellfire?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“There was an accident,” Storm began. “I---.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“She blinded me...</span>
  <em>
    <span>with science</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Gambit announced.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I can be your eyes, Gambit,” Psylocke said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Gambit found he could finally, finally see. He thought perhaps there was still something amiss with what he was seeing however, as the world was painted in a strange light with oddly glowing shadows. He turned his gaze upward to see the giant horrifying tear in time and space. Immediately looked away to see Psylocke before him, Storm beside him. Not far behind Betsy stood Wolverine and Belle. He turned to see who else might have come along. There was the mullethead, Longshot. Alison, the tall blond woman, or as Psylocke conveyed to him, Dazzler. Yup, he now considered himself dazzled. Some guy in black wearing a birdcage on his head.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Havok</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Psylocke said. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Alex. Scott Summers’ brother.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>And there across the plaza towards the tower, Colossus and Rogue, helping lift debris from the front entry of the tower. They had not seen his and Belle’s arrival.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Storm,” Havok was saying. “Thank god. I...I thought I’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>killed </span>
  </em>
  <span>you when I struck that ship!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“A duplicate, nothing more than a mannequin. Created by Nanny. I will explain it all later,” Storm told him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It seemed there was quite the congregation of mutants in the plaza. Several people Gambit did not recognize. Oh, shit, no. That was St. John Allerdyce over there by the blue-skinned woman and the giant molehill of a man. He didn’t have beef with Pyro, just found him super fucking annoying. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Psylocke was explaining: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mystique, Blob....</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Gambit swallowed a chuckle. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Avalanche, Spiral, Stone Wall…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Gambit began to laugh. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Super Sabre…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hahaa! Oh, my God. Stop! Stop, you’re killin’ me!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Crimson Commando…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no no no. I’m cryin’ now. I’m cryin’! Ah! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ha ha ha!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Gambit, focus!” Psylocke said out loud. “And that is Destiny.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Gambit wiped his eyes to see a woman in a gold, expressionless mask. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“She is a precog,” Psylocke explained. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Though apparently sightless, it seemed he felt the weight of the woman’s attention fall on him. Another rainbow flash in his vision (or lack thereof) and sudden pain had him gripping his head.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Timelines tangling twisting tearing---fabric of reality fraying, rent asunder! What was, colliding with what will be...to consume, what is---all eternity---collapsing. No light---no Hope--naught before us...but</span>
  </em>
  <span> Death!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He heard it in his head as if he’d spoken it out loud. As if </span>
  <em>
    <span>she’d </span>
  </em>
  <span>spoken it out loud too, like the worst, creepiest duet ever performed. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Gambit!” Storm was looking down at him now. She could see her face, a child with a seriously concerned expression.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Did I just say dat out loud?” Gambit asked. He realized he was on the ground, laying on his back.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>A strange pale man with red-blond hair and beard appeared upside-down in his vision. “Dusios Vindos,” he said in awe.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah. White Devil. Got it, already.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Ancherth,” the Gaul said. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Incorrect</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Né líu. Vindos, </span>
  <em>
    <span>gweleth</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not white-color. Clear-sighted, </span>
  </em>
  <span>seer</span>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“O-oh…” Gambit said, understanding dawning on him now. “Man, somethin’ got lost in translation dere.” Belle was beside him now, her expression grim. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Y’alright, cher?” she said, crouching down.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You want de honest answer? I’m not </span>
  <em>
    <span>great</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Renie?” the blue woman, Mystique, was saying with concern. Gambit sat up. Mystique was embracing Destiny. She had removed her mask. Destiny, as it turned out, was very, very old. Her eyes were blank white orbs. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I fear, we are doomed,” Destiny was saying. “But...no. I see a glimmer. Of Hope. At the top of the tower. In the Aerie.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, on that note!” Rogue said. Upon seeing Destiny fall to the ground, she had rushed to the woman’s side. Now she looked to the top of the tower. “Ah’ll go check it out!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Spiral!” Mystique barked. “Beat her there!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The many-limbed Spiral leapt into the air with a twisted grin. Rogue’s jaw dropped as Spiral blasted past her. She cast a surly look at Mystique before following hot on Spiral’s heels. They did not make it to the top of the tower before a blast of red and orange fire lit Spiral up like a Catherine Wheel. She fell, crashing into Rogue on her way and the pair plummeted to earth. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I got ‘em!” Blob called and they struck him with a force that imploded the street. The three now lay in the bottom of a crater.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you get that?” Minoli, the reporter called excitedly to the man, Neal, who was filming. She was manning the satellite truck, transmitting the action to the airwaves.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Gambit climbed to his feet just as Rogue and Spiral were pulling themselves from the crater. Standing at the lip, Rogue helped the massive man from the hole. Gambit exhaled, relieved. Glanced at Belle, who arched her eyebrow at him. He grinned down at her, shrugged. She rolled her eyes, poked him in the shoulder. Smiled with a shake of her head. He winked at her. Who needed to be a telepath?</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Gambit hadn’t seen Rogue since Christmas Eve. When Logan came to visit, he’d half-hoped Rogue would come too. He wasn’t disappointed to see Ororo instead, per se. She knew how to let loose every once in a while. Gambit hadn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>heard </span>
  </em>
  <span>from Rogue though either. She didn’t respond to his letters (that he sent to the X-Men collectively, rather than directly addressed to her). When he caught her on the phone (he was the one doing the calling, for the most part), she would greet him and then quickly pass the receiver off to whoever was in the room. Gambit supposed that was what happened when you totally concealed the fact you were married and made the woman you were fooling around with into your piece on the side. So, he supposed he couldn’t blame her for not ever wanting to see or talk to him again. Unfortunately, his heart was even less rational than his brain, and was having a big old sulk about it.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Then we mount the tower the old-fashioned way,” Mystique was saying.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Now hold up, Mystique,” Wolverine started, then paused. He suddenly turned to Storm and cried out: “Hey! I’m not leader anymore!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>If Wolverine was one to conduct “excessive celebration” post-touchdown, then he would have had a 15-yard penalty called on him just then.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Storm smiled at him. Bowed her head slightly. “Thank you for manning the helm in my absence,” she told him. “Mystique. You are the leader of this government operation.” Here, Storm swept her hand to the side to indicate Blob, Avalanche, Spiral, and the other hilariously named mutants standing in the plaza. “It is </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>duty to protect and serve civilians. It is </span>
  <em>
    <span>our </span>
  </em>
  <span>duty, as the renegades we are, to assume the risk and take the charge. The X-Men will climb the tower. We will pursue the hope Destiny has Seen. We have committed ourselves to this cause, to save the world at large.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>And that was that. Except the X-Men also had a pair of hangers-on from the United Guilds trailing them, plus the cameraman, Neal. And two-dozen topless men and women from Somewhen B.C. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Once inside the tower, they were met with yet more strange sights. The entire building was filled with lush vegetation, oppressive heat and humidity, bursts of unexpected rainfall. Also the Viet Cong, who fired upon them. Having not found any Romans to stab, the Gaulish fighters made the best of things and took off into the jungle in pursuit of their new quarry. Having never seen the likes of Gaul’s finest, the Viet Cong soldiers fled with much screaming. Gambit empathized, as he felt similarly prior to after-church potlucks with the other nine clans back home.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It looks like Eagle Plaza isn’t immune to the chaos,” Havok said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No, there’s so brimstone stink here,” Wolverine responded. “This isn’t demon-chaos. This is man-made. These are solid holograms. Part of Forge’s technology.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Gambit wondered who in the heck wanted to spend their time in 1960s Vietnam, but at least the weather agreed with him. He glanced at Psylocke, who had kept by his side. He observed that she was “dewy.” She cast him a “I might be amused, but I’m going to pretend you’re annoying me” look.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It does not look as though we will be using the elevator,” Colossus said. “Or the stairs.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Then we blast our way up!” Rogue announced and flew straight up and into the forest canopy. There was a crash and debris rained down from above. There were several more explosions, more chunks of cement, plaster, and metal tumbled down. The sounds faded somewhat as she continued to climb.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the X-Men sort of stood around looking at one another awkwardly at a loss for what to do. Gambit started laughing into the weird silence until Belle trod on his foot to get him to stop. The reporter attempted to interview Wolverine but was angrily rebuffed. Neal got a few soundbites from the rest of the team. Longshot was more than willing to respond to questions, and was significantly more telegenic. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you fight for this cause?” the reporter asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“To help my friends, of course!” Longshot cheerily replied with all the guile of a Disney princess.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it really that simple?” the reporter persisted.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Rogue eventually returned, floating downwards and brushing debris from her shoulders. Her dark black and green uniform was covered in white dust. “Ah think that’s it! Should at least get us to the floor below the Aerie.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Rogue seized Logan and Colossus each by a hand and flew up with the two men in tow. A windstorm suddenly swept through the tower lobby, sending trees and vegetation whipping. Gambit reached out and clasped Belle’s arm as he felt the winds begin to lift him from his feet. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Stormy!” he called with alarm.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Storm fared him with a mischievous look. “Do not call me that,” she said with a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They were being pulled upwards through the hole in the ceiling, like a drain, but in reverse. Gambit had Belle clasped against him on one side, his free hand held Psylocke’s. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Longshot zoomed past them and upwards. Apparently, he weighed next to nothing. “Whee!” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“So on de list of de top weirdest things you’ve ever done…?” Gambit began.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re still de weirdest,” Belle told him, her smile broad.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Storm’s winds deposited the remaining X-Men at the topmost floor. It was another lobby with a grand staircase of floating glass risers going upwards to the Aerie. This place was even more densely covered with tropical vegetation. At the top of the staircase stood the man that could only be Forge. Gambit might’ve imagined the look on Storm’s face as one of embarrassment, but he was going to be polite and say she was ‘discomfited.’ </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Ororo, what---?” Forge began. He ran a nervous hand over his head, his expression bewildered.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“We have a journalist,” Storm said, cutting him off. “And it seems, little time for explanations.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The outer walls were made entirely of glass. Through them they could see the tear in the sky beyond, so much closer now that they were in the tower. The tear was growing ever-wider. Tiny figures tumbled from the tear...demons.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Forge nodded, signalled to their group to come up. Storm, Wolverine, Colossus, Rogue, Havok, Dazzler and Longshot climbed the staircase. Psylocke posed at the bottom step, turned and raised a hand to beckon. Belle and Gambit shared a look, then followed. The cameraman panned up the staircase, his camera watching the heroes climb light and glass against the backdrop of a dark and terrifying sky. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The Aerie was a technological marvel filled with various mechanics and clear glass floors. It might give one a sensation of walking through the air, that is, if the jungle hadn’t encroached upon this place too. Vines, long grass, fronds and ferns tangled on the floor. They all stared up at the rend in the sky. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“The Adversary is in Roma’s citadel above,” Forge told them. “He cannot be destroyed. Only pushed back through his portal. He has Roma. Her powers sustain him.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“So we take the battle to him,” Wolverine said. “Any thoughts on how to get up there?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Fly, obviously,” Rogue said. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“The citadel is held aloft by a gale force wind,” Forge said. “You may be able to get close, but not through. If Storm had her powers---.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I have at least a portion of my former ability,” Storm told him. “When I found myself reduced to this state, I regained the powers I had at the age of fourteen.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Forge looked somewhat relieved by this revelation, but equally ill-at-ease that his lady-love was now a teenybopper.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“We can just toss Longshot up there,” Dazzler suggested. “He’d fly like a kite.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Gambit thought this was perhaps the stupidest thing he’d ever heard, but Longshot looked at Dazzler with glowing admiration. Rogue had threatened to launch Gambit into orbit once, and his reaction had been significantly different. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Forge handed Longshot a long coil of some kind of metal. “This won’t break,” he said. “I can affix you with a harness of the same material if you give me a few minutes.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re actually doin’ this?” Belle said to Gambit out of the corner of her mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> not,” Gambit told her. She looked furiously up at him. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Like hell, you’re going!” she shouted at him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What, you expect me t’just stand here and watch?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No! Seein’ as how </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re blind!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Gambit pointed at her belly. “You want us t’raise a baby in a world fulla demons?” he hissed at her.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Dis ain’t our fight!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“We pledged a life-debt,” Gambit retorted. “I only got to save one of their lives, and it’s even-steven!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You damned couyon! I won’t let you throw away </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> life!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Gambit suddenly felt a searing pain in his head. He clapped his hands over his eyes, unable to stop the hellish vision of a bloody and brutal war, horrifying atrocities, burning bodies, the bodies of nine men, dead. Their blood on his hands...Forge’s hands. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>...their life force I have claimed. Now let the strength of their warrior souls open wide this last and greatest gate that their death may be avenged! Spirits I have summoned in the ancient tongue and by the sacred ways...”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Gambit!” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He found himself on the ground again, this was getting embarrassing. Belle looked stricken. Psylocke had her hand on his shoulder, her expression was very grave. She must have seen what he had seen. She was joined by Storm and Forge. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Gambit asked: “Ugh...does anyone have an air discomfort bag?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Another prediction?” Storm asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No…” Forge began. “That was...from the past. When I originally opened the portal, and accidentally freed The Adversary. When the people in my unit were gunned down in Vietnam. And I thought to avenge their deaths....with magic.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Storm gazed at him first with a look of empathy...and then with fear. She stood, resolved. “If you can open the gate, you can close it as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Forge was shaking his head slowly. “No…I can’t. I won’t use the magic again.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It is your birthright,” she told him. “And our only hope.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Gambit perused his mental catalogue. Portal? Portal. Let’s see. Porta Potty. No. Portkey? No, that was Harry Potter. Portents comma Of Doom? None of those were helpful. Damn, no entries under ‘portal.’ He climbed to his feet. The X-Men were committed to their stupid plan. Rogue punched a hole in the glass wall which exploded outward into the encroaching night. Longshot was strapped with a harness, the lead played out behind him. One by one, each X-person picked up the line. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>These little angels all dressed in white. Trying to get to heaven on the end of a kite... </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Gambit handed Belle his coat. “Hang on t’dis for me?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Belle shook her head even as he draped the coat over her shoulders. He kissed her on the mouth, tasted her tears. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Keep safe? You and de precious cargo?” Remy asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Anne-Marie is a good name, I suppose,” Belle responded, her voice tight. He grinned at her before turning to follow the X-Men. Belle called: “Wait!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Gambit turned. Belle extended the blades she’d borrowed from Longshot. She told him: “Don’t bother with playing cards. Demons hate steel.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Colossus was serving as an anchor. The armored man smiled and nodded at him as he approached, then made a gesture as if he were inviting Gambit to join a party. Gambit was about to assume his place at the end of the line….</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>One little devil all dressed in red. Trying to get to heaven on the end of a thread. But the thread string broke and down they all fell. Instead of going to heaven they all went to…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>...when he was joined by the reporter. The man attempted to question him, but the answers Gambit provided were not to his satisfaction. Mr. Neal Conan glared at him with frustration.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You realize the entire world is watching?” he asked. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Really...? Hey, daddy! I’m on de </span>
  <em>
    <span>tee</span>
  </em>
  <span>-vee! Enh, Tatie! Love and kisses. Oh yeah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Go Saints!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Then with a sudden jerk, he realized they were leaving. His hands gripped the metal lead and he was off his feet and headed up towards the hole Rogue had created. Both Rogue and Storm held Longshot by either arm as they guided him into the sky. Then came Wolverine, Forge, Dazzler, Havok, Psylocke, Gambit, that pesky reporter, and lastly Colossus, who transformed back into his human form so that he might be lifted as well. Rogue literally threw the Longshot boy at the citadel and sure enough, he was caught in a gale and then they were all cast into orbit. The winds ripped at Remy’s clothes and hair.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Owing to the injury he sustained on his shoulder, Gambit felt his grip slipping. He dared cast a glance downward, the Aerie now far below. He struggled to pull himself back up the lead, fearing he’d take both the reporter and Colossus down with him. Suddenly, Rogue was there, gripping his arm, dragging him back to his position in line. She grasped the line as well, just above him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Y’alright, sugah?” she asked, gazing down at him with a small smile.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Right as rain,” he answered. His chest squeezed painfully tight, and not just due to the sudden lack of oxygen.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Storm was attempting to direct the winds. Longshot threw out a grappling line where it connected with an exterior wall. Dazzler fired a tight beam of light at the wall, burning a perfect circle through the building’s glassy surface. Wolverine leapt from his place in line to fall into the circle, crashing through it and making an entrance. Longshot was pulling them all along now, arm over arm as Wolverine dragged on the grappling line to shorten the distance. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stay close</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Psylocke told Gambit. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I will keep our link open.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Gambit agreed silently. Rogue helped pull him through the opening and all at once he found himself free of the tearing winds. The interior of the citadel was a confusion of both magical and technological strangeness. Wolverine was soon joined by Rogue, who began battering back a group of demons to allow the rest of the team to enter. Wolverine’s claws made short work of the horned, clawed, scaled and winged creatures. One punch by Colossus had dozens sprawling, their skin burning and slavering mouths squealing in agony. Longshot’s knives sent many more back to Hell. Storm held several at bay with her winds and lightning, protecting Forge as he was now resolved to prepare some kind of magical defense. He folded himself onto the floor. Criss-cross applesauce.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Gambit and Psylocke guarded the human reporter while making their way to a stone pillar at the center of the room. A woman was trapped within, half in-half out of the stonework. Dazzler and Havok were covering them as they made progress, blasting demons from the air. Psylocke was first to reach Roma. She was an ethereally beautiful creature who looked human but was somehow more. If Gambit wasn’t a faithful servant of Christ, fallen and returned, he might have suffered another lapse of faith. Imposingly tall, fair skin, ink-black hair pulled into a long tail flowing from the top of her head. Psylocke searched for a way to free her from the column. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I could try to disintegrate the stonework,” Gambit said. “So how indestructible you feel today, mon ange?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The creature smiled beautifically at him. “I will only be freed when The Adversary is cast back.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Her voice seemed to resonate inside of him. Gambit thought talking with gods was not something he was mentally prepared for. Pretty sure he was going to pass on any opportunities to have a meet-and-greet with Thor. He was experiencing the overwhelming sensation that </span>
  <em>
    <span>he did not belong here.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You are a fly in the ointment,” she told him. “Misplaced in time.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you help me find my keys, too?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“But your presence is fortuitous,” Roma said. “You were called.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t think my number was listed.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Psylocke let out a cry and Gambit turned his attention to her. She had launched a psybolt at a man who might have been related to Forge. Nazé, Dazzler had said. The man’s presence emanated pure chaotic energy. Gambit felt something in him call out to the being, like an answering beacon. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hey, me too…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The creature grinned wide enough to split its face in two. Gambit felt overwhelming revulsion, even as he was inexorably drawn to the thing.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Your psionic abilities have no ill effect on me,” the man told Psylocke and strode forward, moving toward Gambit with a fervent gleam in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>A knife dropped into Gambit’s palm. He charged it and his arm swept in an upward arc, throwing the steel blade at the man. The spike spiraled and struck the man in the eye. The creature howled, throwing himself backwards. When Wolverine attacked, several deep gashes formed in the being, revealing a vaporous form beneath. Colossus was suddenly rushing forward with the force of a freight train, pulverizing the menacing creature. The Adversary seemed to tear apart and what was then revealed was even more terrifying. Huge, hunched blackness that sucked in all light. A horrible red gash of a mouth and two more for eyes. Long limbs ended in hooked claws. Longshot swung past, his grappling line twisting around the column. Every time he passed he released a volley of spikes. The thing shrank back with a howl of rage. Gambit dropped another blade into his hand. It did not burn him. He wrapped his fingers around it, cutting himself. Bled perfectly normal red blood.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Across the room, amidst the flailing demons, a bright golden door opened in space. Rogue, Dazzler, and Havok were struggling to keep the hordes away from Forge, who was completely vulnerable. Storm crouched at his side and offered encouragement. But once the door started to open, the lesser demons began to be drawn to the portal. They struggled to claw their way back. But then The Adversary was drawn away too, taking a swath of demons with him. Gambit was half-afraid he’d be sucked in as well, but nope, all that nonsense about him being the devil was proved false. Totally human, over here!</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The Adversary was clinging to the edges of the portal. Most alarming, he was grinning with his foul red mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You haven’t the power to seal the portal,” The Adversary told Forge in a satisfied voice. “You cannot send me back!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Psylocke,” Roma said. “Project my voice.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Psylocke nodded and suddenly, they could all hear Roma speak into their minds. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The power resides in the souls of those gathered. Nine warrior souls were stolen that day in the past, when the gate was opened. Nine warrior souls must return to seal the portal, willingly given.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, quick math here...seven, eight, nine...not counting Forge and the reporter. Gambit hated math.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“But…” Forge began. “They will die!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A noble sacrifice, to save the world, the universe. Nine is not so many.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The Adversary renounced the idea with a laugh. “Yes, willingly greet your deaths, mortals! Sacrifice your very souls! You’ve failed, Roma!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Hell, what did this guy know? Gambit wouldn’t do it for the universe, no. But for two people, just two, one waiting on earth below, the other not yet born, absolutely. Maybe Gambit wasn’t the first to step forward, but he did fall in with the ranks. He passed the reporter.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you doing this?” Neal asked. “You’re not even an X-Man.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Gambit shrugged: “Monkey see, monkey do.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Ororo told Forge: “We must truly die. Forge, I do love you still. May we meet again.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Take the news junkie back, will ya?” Wolverine told Forge. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Elisabeth turned to the cameraman. “Brian,” she told the camera. “Goodbye.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Rogue: “G’bye mamma...Renie. Ah love you!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Alex looked down and away. “Good luck...brother.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Logan raised a hand in farewell. “Shadowcat. Nightcrawler. Jean.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Remy wasn’t about to say his family members’ names on television. “See you in de next life,” he said instead. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>And then Forge was chanting. Chanting and weeping. The demon, The Adversary, was squalling and ranting. Doors were closing upon him, yet still he would not budge. A blade, Belle’s blade, flew through the air, striking the demon and casting him away. Remy turned his gaze in a different direction, not wanting to look at the glowing door and whatever lay beyond. He saw Rogue, and this time, when he offered her his hand, she took it. He thought Logan wouldn’t go for the whole man-hug thing (Emil had certainly tested the man’s boundaries at Mardi Gras). So Remy took Ororo’s hand too, still stuck in a little girl’s body, but more adult than he’d ever be. The light became so bright, it did not matter that Remy couldn’t see with his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p><span>But then there was nothing. Nothing at all.</span> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next time: The Revelations will be televised.</p><p>A/N: A lot of this chapter has taken beats directly from Claremont's X-Men Fall of the Mutants storyline. Some of the more "extravagant" dialogue is his as well. Anything pertaining to Gambit, however, is my own creation as he was not an X-Man at the time. </p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I don't really know what happened to my chapter publication date situation...I'd been updating just about every Friday, but for whatever reason, it got stuck on March 10th. So now it might feel like drinking from a firehose.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mattie was standing before her new color television set, the fancy clicker that came with it hung limp in her hand. Jean-Luc was seated on her couch, leaning forward, elbows on knees. Jean-Luc was seeing his son Remy not as he <em>knew </em>him, but as the <em>world saw </em>him. It was not necessarily a sensation of embarrassment, not on Remy's behalf, anyway. But a feeling of failure; that despite his efforts, Jean-Luc had not equipped this young man with the tools he needed to navigate the world at large. The world was not seeing the unselfconscious flamboyance of someone who lived loudly. Who literally didn't care if he was caught with his pants down around his ankles. They <em>were</em> seeing a strange person, a clownish imbecile, who looked as if he'd rolled out of a Graceland gift shop in a pink Elvis tee-shirt and guitar-patterned button-down (he might have at that, but who was anyone to judge?). They weren't seeing a man who found humor in the decidedly unfunny, in the absurd. Instead, they <em>were</em> seeing someone irreverent, mocking and arrogant. Not someone who plumbed the depths of his own thoughts trying to make sense of a nonsensical world. Instead, someone uncaring and brooding, who couldn't be bothered to speak to others.</p>
<p>The reporter was attempting to interview him, as he had the other mutants: "What is your codename? Where are you from?"</p>
<p>"I am Mork from Ork," Remy replied. "Nanu Nanu."</p>
<p>Jean-Luc had steepled his fingers before him. He now pressed his index fingers into the space between his eyebrows, feeling a headache coming on.</p>
<p>"Storm called you 'Gambit,'" the reporter said.</p>
<p>"Gambit? What kinda stupid name is dat?" Remy asked. "You might've heard 'Bandit.'"</p>
<p>"So your codename is 'Bandit'?"</p>
<p>"No, what gave you dat idea?"</p>
<p>"Maybe you don't <em>have </em>a codename?"</p>
<p>"I can call you Betty, and Betty, when you call me, you can call me Al."</p>
<p>Jean-Luc rubbed his forehead.</p>
<p>"Let's move on to the next question," the reporter said, frustrated. "The other X-Men-."</p>
<p>"Oh, I'm not an X-Man."</p>
<p>"You-you're not?"</p>
<p>"Like a groupie, me. I just follow de band. Made out wit' the drummer a few times."</p>
<p>The cameraman sighed into the microphone. "Then...why are you in this fight? What are you fighting for?"</p>
<p>"You gotta fight."</p>
<p>"Yes, and?"</p>
<p>"For your right."</p>
<p>"Mutant rights?"</p>
<p>"To <em>PAAAAARTAAY</em>!"</p>
<p>"Okay, this interview is over."</p>
<p>"<em>Don't step out of this house if that's the clothes you're gonna wey-yare!"</em></p>
<p>"Stop it! We can't afford the royalties! This is <em>public radio!</em>"</p>
<p>"<em>I'll kick you out of my home if you don't cut. That. Hair!</em>"</p>
<p>"You realize the entire world is watching?" Neal asked, exasperated.</p>
<p>"Really...? Hey, daddy! I'm on de <em>tee</em>-vee! Enh, Tatie! Love and kisses. Oh yeah, <em>Go Saints!</em>"</p>
<p>Mattie placed the clicker onto the couch cushion beside Jean-Luc and walked off into the kitchen. "Where are you goin'?" he asked.</p>
<p>"I need to gather my wits," Mattie said. She climbed a stool, took down a bottle from the cabinet over the refrigerator, and returned with two glasses. Filling her glass, she handed him the bottle and the second glass.</p>
<p>"You don't drink this, do you?" Jean-Luc asked, looking at the bottle's label.</p>
<p>"The kids cleaned me out when they came here after Mardi Gras," she said. "This is what's left."</p>
<p>Jean-Luc watched as Remy bid adieu to BellaDonna, who, as far as Jean-Luc could recall, had never once cried in all the time he'd known her. Her face had worn a look of fury and misery, and was very wet. Now he and Mattie watched their son get yanked into orbit along with his friends. The camera shuddered and Jean-Luc thought for sure the signal would be lost. By some miracle, after several painful minutes, the picture cleared somewhat and the televised disaster was once again on the screen. The footage was jumpy, it crackled, the audio muffled at times, but at others it was loud and shrill with the shrieking of demons. It was hard to tell if the pandemonium was enhanced by the jumbled footage, or if that was truly what the scene looked like. Even here in New Orleans, the sky had darkened ominously like a deep bruise. Several less-savory groups of NOLA residents, usually kept at bay in the shadows or hidden under cover of darkness, were emerging like rats to sniff the air for the scent of an easy meal. If the events on screen unfolded as The Adversary hoped, then New Orleans would be overrun by dawn, and be eaten alive in a week's time. Jean-Luc took a pull from the neck of the bottle, felt his eyes water and throat burn.</p>
<p>Mattie let out a gasp of horror. He'd nearly missed the sight of a demonic man towering over the woman he knew as Betsy. Remy threw a blade and caught the man in the eye, driving him back. Mattie began to pray. Piotr crashed through the man, then a monster emerged as if a horrifying butterfly from a chrysalis. Logan was thrown aside as if he did not possess a metal skeleton, but was made of cotton. A blond haired boy twirled past, throwing blades. Then it seemed the demons were being pulled by an unseen force back into a glowing gate. Jean-Luc wondered if Mattie's prayers would be answered. They were not.</p>
<p>"Closing the portal," the cameraman was saying, because the mutants had fallen silent now. "Requires nine souls to sacrifice themselves willingly. The X-Men are volunteering, volunteering to save us all. Not just with their lives, their <em>souls</em>. Saving not just Dallas. Not the U.S. The <em>planet</em>. The <em>universe</em>."</p>
<p>Remy and Betsy walked past the camera. Remy was held up.</p>
<p>"Why are you doing this?" the reporter asked. "You're not even an X-Man."</p>
<p>Remy shrugged: "Monkey see, monkey do." How many times had Jean-Luc said those words to his son? He regretted saying them now.</p>
<p>The X-Men said goodbye.</p>
<p>"See you on de next life," Remy said, gazed sightlessly with blank black eyes. Waved into the distance.</p>
<p>Jean-Luc blinked furiously. Beside him, Mattie let out a wail. Her phone was ringing on the side table. Jean-Luc jumped when he felt his front pocket vibrate. Stupid newfangled cell phone. The screen said: Henri. Trying to reach him. Likely watching too.</p>
<p>The camera captured a bright light, the cries of the angry demon, the portal beginning to slam shut on his screams.</p>
<p>"You cannot destroy me! I will return! You will-!"</p>
<p>From her boot, Ororo drew a dagger. She threw it and the demon was silenced, was spiraling back into Hell before the doors finally slammed shut.</p>
<p>There was a vision of some sort of humanoid, feminine presence, glowing on the screen. The camera somehow could not record her properly. Mattie thought her an angel. The X-Men had disappeared, vanished in the pulse of light. Except a figure lay on the ground before the portal still. The only non-X-Man. Jean-Luc's heart leapt with hope. Somehow Remy was still there, he hadn't evaporated into the ether.</p>
<p>The man, Forge, approached his still form. "He's dead," Forge said, and Jean-Luc felt his heart collapse.</p>
<p>"Very nearly. His soul heretofore was magic-bound, to another," the vision said. "His body binds the soul still."</p>
<p>"Then, does that mean...the portal will reopen?" Forge asked. "They gave their lives for <em>nothing</em>?"</p>
<p>"Closed, firmly. Each soul a slamming door, closing off a portion of The Adversary's power. One door remains...within," the vision pointed a glowing finger at Remy. "Closed and holding The Adversary and his full power at bay."</p>
<p>"Please...don't ask me to kill him," Forge begged with exhaustion.</p>
<p>"No. It is not for you nor I to decide. It must be his choice. He may die yet, but better still...for him to live."</p>
<p><em>What? Live...with a demon?</em> <em>In his soul? </em>Jean-Luc tore his gaze away from the screen briefly to look at Mattie. She looked horrified.</p>
<p>Forge lifted Jean-Luc and Mattie's son from the ground, held him in a fireman's carry. "We need to go back."</p>
<p>The vision nodded and another portal opened. Forge cast a glance back at the vision, then departed. The cameraman followed him.</p>
<p>They were now within a gallery tangled with machinery and plant life. A steady rain fell indoors. Outside, past the trees and glass windows, it was night. The rend in the sky was gone. Forge lowered Remy onto a worktable. Belle was suddenly at his side, hidden partially in Remy's coat. She made a sound of despair, lowered her head to his chest.</p>
<p>"Don't you leave me again!" she screamed.</p>
<p>"He needs...a doctor. A healer-," Forge began.</p>
<p>But Belle was rummaging in the pockets of the coat. Jean-Luc saw her fumble with something, her back to the camera. She leaned over Remy and his face was blocked from the camera's view.</p>
<p>"Wake up, just wake up," Belle breathed. An empty vial clinked onto the tabletop, rolled and fell off the table to shatter onto the floor.</p>
<p>Jean-Luc stood abruptly then, the forgotten liquor bottle falling, echoing the shattering sound from the television.</p>
<p>"Come back t'me," Belle whispered, and now the entire television audience could see their faces in profile, dark silhouettes against a blue-black sky, very close. Belle kissed Remy's mouth.</p>
<p>Glowing red eyes blinked open. The kiss was returned.</p>
<p>Mattie was screaming with joy, clinging to Jean-Luc, jumping up and down.</p>
<p>"Wake up, Sleepin' Ugly," Belle said.</p>
<p>"My knight in stupid armor," Remy said, his smile a white gleam in the darkness.</p>
<p>He surged forward, grasped Belle to himself, and the two pressed their mouths together ardently, kissing fervently. It was a good thing it was now evening, because this would have never got past the FCC during the daytime. Outside, in New Orleans, Jean-Luc could hear people cheering. Several people were blasting car horns. Someone fired a gun skyward several times.</p>
<p>"Love conquers death," the reporter said, in a tone that spoke of his absolute disbelief becoming true faith.</p>
<p>Jean-Luc's son and daughter-in-law were making out on the worktable in the rain. It appeared second-base was being approached.</p>
<p>"He's alive, he's alive," Jean-Luc breathed.</p>
<p>"God has a plan. God has a plan for my boy!" Mattie declared and fell about praising God, Jesus, the Holy Mother and every saint she could name.</p>
<p>Jean-Luc thought it more likely that Remy lived only due to BellaDonna's quick thinking, for Remy having the Elixir of Life, and for him always wearing that stupid coat of his like a security blanket.</p>
<p>As for plans, God's or no gods, Jean-Luc was done-just done-with plans, portents, and prophecies. He only wanted his son home. Safe. Sane. And within his sight.</p>
<p>~oOo~</p>
<p>November, 1986</p>
<p>The boy had only been in the household for a few weeks, but it seemed as if he'd made himself quite at home. It was almost as if he'd always been there. Maybe it felt that way because Jean-Luc's thoughts were ever preoccupied with the little boy destiny had gifted him. Though he'd only interacted with the boy directly three times until recently.</p>
<p>The first instance, just over ten years ago, when the mysterious woman placed the silent baby in his arms. He wondered if the woman was the child's mother; she seemed reluctant to turn him over. Jean-Luc couldn't be certain. The woman wore a golden mask over her face, rendering her features and expression invisible. She said nothing of his origins, where he'd come from, only telling Jean-Luc that she trusted him to do what was best for the boy. Jean-Luc was told the child was prophesied; and it was true, the mention of a red-eyed devil, ('a <em>white </em>devil,' one tome specified, but meaning <em>clarity of spirit </em>maybe?...something was lost in translation there) did appear in their ancient texts. Those books didn't hold much water with Jean-Luc, but it would give him a cause to take the boy in, bring him into the fold. Jean-Luc left him in Matilde's care, where the baby became a part of the Antiquary's Collection...for the time being. Mattie stayed on under the pretense of keeping house, but she only had eyes for the baby and not for chores. Despite Jean-Luc's offering his own home, and mostly due to political back-stabbing, it was decided that the Collection was where Guild property was meant to be stored. The prophesied baby being wholly owned by the Guild now. The baby was named Remy (Jean-Luc thought that too twee, but knew it wasn't worth the argument), and he stayed in the Collection in relative safety for nearly two years. Safe, anyway, because the baby was silent and did very little other than smile when he saw his Tante Mattie approach. Their traiteur feared something the matter with him, he failed to meet "developmental milestones," so Mattie concentrated her powers on healing whatever was wrong. Something to do with his brain.</p>
<p>Jean-Luc thought she might have done <em>too </em>good a job, because then the baby didn't shut up after that, much to Little Remy's detriment.</p>
<p>The second time Jean-Luc encountered the boy, he was just two. Taken from the Collection, padlocked in a dog crate, and thrown into the bayou by a faction of insubordinates led by the Marceaux clan who thought to test the validity of the prophecy. To them, the child was just a thing, not even human. Mattie alerted Jean-Luc to Remy's sudden disappearance, the location where she believed he'd been taken. Jean-Luc arrived just moments after the crate disappeared below the surface. Jean-Luc thought he'd end Marceaux's life then, if the man hadn't had two small boys of his own...But then, it made it all the more appalling he would take the life of a baby only a few months older than his youngest.</p>
<p>Jean-Luc thought to follow Remy into the swamp, but then the boy bobbed to the surface, glowing red eyes reflected on the water. Jean-Luc did not think the boy could swim, he'd never been in any water deeper than a bathtub. But he came towards the shore, blowing bubbles from his lips like a tiny motorboat. Jean-Luc fished him from the drink and set him on his feet. The baby dripped muddy water from his Captain America pajamas, apparently believing this excursion, a brief freedom from the stifling confines of the Collection, to be a great adventure. He had no idea the amount of peril he was in. He attempted to jump back into the water.</p>
<p>"Are you satisfied?" Jean-Luc asked, gripping the baby by the back of his jammies, staring at the elder Marceaux coldly. Struggling not to convey the absolute rage he felt towards the man. Marceaux's older son, Theo, stood at his father's side, looking on with an expression of fear on his face. Jean-Luc wasn't sure if it was due to his own father's actions, or the apparent invincibility of the little Diable that was now tossing mud clods into the water with much splashing.</p>
<p>The dissidents left in silence, mollified for now. Jean-Luc looked at the little boy, who was pointing into the bayou and exclaiming over something. "Tatie's purse!" he squealed.</p>
<p>Jean-Luc turned to see a small female alligator peering out of the water at them, made curious by the commotion. Like Remy, her eyes reflected red in the dim light. Jean-Luc sat wearily in the wet turf next to the boy. He rubbed his palm over his face. He replied, his voice raw: "It <em>does </em>look like Mattie's handbag, don't it?"</p>
<p>"You no cwy," Remy said in his piping baby voice and patted Jean-Luc's knee. "Don' be sad!"</p>
<p>"Alright, cher," Jean-Luc said, feeling even more like a miserable failure for this boy's offer of comfort. The baby truly was Mattie's own son. Jean-Luc stood, and since he was reluctant to bring him back to the Collection, he asked the boy if he wanted to go for a walk. Remy agreed enthusiastically and Jean-Luc told him he'd have to be quiet if he expected to see any animals. He nodded happily. He took the baby by the hand to prevent him from leaping back into the bayou. The silence lasted maybe ten minutes until Remy spotted something Jean-Luc hadn't seen.</p>
<p>"Mule say: hee-hawn!"</p>
<p>"Dat's a deer, Remy," Jean-Luc informed him.</p>
<p>"Whad a deer say?" Remy asked.</p>
<p>"T'be honest, I don't know," Jean-Luc said.</p>
<p>Remy looked at him, incredulous that an adult had no satisfactory answer.</p>
<p>Three years later, Jean-Luc had expected the boy to demonstrate some semblance of fear, or at least a healthy dose of respect when at the age of five, he was brought before a tribunal of sorcerers for The Antiquary's trial. The defendant himself sat in a throne-like chair looking smug and self-satisfied as always. Likely, he was plotting how to best make Jean-Luc suffer, as he fully expected to be acquitted. The charges: irrevocable damage perpetrated against a priceless artifact sacred to their spiritual, mystical and ancient culture. Or something like that, Jean-Luc had made it up.</p>
<p>Their Guild traiteur, spiritual leader, and Remy's primary caregiver brought the boy into the room. Jean-Luc did not turn to face them, but instead stood stoically before the group of five sorcerers, four men and one woman. Jean-Luc counted on Strange to rule in his favor, perhaps the woman as well. No sooner had Mattie brought the boy into the chamber, did Jean-Luc hear a clunk and the tinkling sound of breaking glass.</p>
<p>"Oops," Remy said in a whisper.</p>
<p>Jean-Luc closed his eyes briefly and suppressed a sigh.</p>
<p>"What did I <em>just tell you</em> outside?" Mattie hissed.</p>
<p>"Look with my eyes…?"</p>
<p>"You're missin' the last part!"</p>
<p>"...Not with my hands?"</p>
<p>The Antiquary made a derisive sound. "Why did you bring that little demon here, Jean-Luc?"</p>
<p>"He will offer testimony," Jean-Luc said, refusing to look at the monster, The Antiquary.</p>
<p>"That creature has destroyed more relics, magical or otherwise, than those in the accusations you've leveled against me!" The Antiquary snapped.</p>
<p>Jean-Luc's eyes flicked from The Antiquary to Doctor Stephen Strange. His expression conveyed an impression of: <em>do you see what I have to put up with?</em></p>
<p>"I do not know that the testimony of children is admissible," said one of the sorcerers.</p>
<p>"He won't have much to say," Jean-Luc assured him. <em>Hopefully. </em>"He serves as evidence only."</p>
<p>Jean-Luc turned slightly and gestured for Mattie to bring Remy forward. She leaned down to whisper into the boy's ear. "Now, what else did I tell you?"</p>
<p>"Speak only when spoken to!" Remy said loudly, his voice still the clear piping voice of a small child. It carried.</p>
<p>Mattie shuffled him forward. "And?"</p>
<p>"Have good listening ears!" Remy diligently replied. "Only, I've got real good listening ears. You want to hear this joke I listen to? 'What's the differ-nence between jelly and jam? You can't jelly your'-<em>oowww</em>! Tante, that was my good listening ear!"</p>
<p>"<em>I am going to wash your mouth out with soap!</em>"</p>
<p>Jean-Luc prayed for deliverance.</p>
<p>The Antiquary laughed haughtily. The four sorcerers unknown to Jean-Luc had stern and disapproving expressions on their faces. Strange might have smoothed his facial hair in an attempt to conceal a smile at Jean-Luc's obvious discomfort.</p>
<p>Remy now stood at Jean-Luc's side, looking up at him with curiosity. Jean-Luc did not return his gaze, but kept his eyes forward on the council members. Remy nervously shifted from one foot to another, his hands tucked into either of the overlong sleeves of his tunic. Jean-Luc was holding a thick ornate book. He placed it onto the long table set before the council with more reverence than he actually felt. Opened the ancient tome to a marked passage.</p>
<p>"Our culture...has been in existence in some form for the last five millennia. We are the last vestiges of a mystical faith, destroyed by the Romans in the years around 50 BC. Most of our lore has been lost to us."</p>
<p>The sorcerers listened carefully. Certainly, none of this information would be news to them. Jean-Luc pointed to the boy. "Dis is…" (Remy) "...le Diable Blanc. As prophesied in our texts. He is...," (a small, mutant child), "...a possession of significant importance to our people. Our last hope t'bring de truth to light and recover what we have lost."</p>
<p>One of the sorcerer's reviewed the passages in the text, written mostly on papyrus and vellum, cobbled together from bits and pieces over the centuries. The sorcerer nodded in affirmation.</p>
<p>Doctor Strange asked: "And what did you say his name was?"</p>
<p>Jean-Luc hesitated.</p>
<p>"Remy," Mattie answered. "We call him Remy."</p>
<p>"Remy," Doctor Strange repeated. "How can we make you more comfortable? Would you like to sit down?"</p>
<p>A chair was magicked behind the boy. He turned and looked at it. His eyes went to his Tante Mattie's, looking for approval. She nodded at him.</p>
<p>"Only but I can't," Remy told the sorcerer.</p>
<p>"Please, be my guest," Strange said indulgently, gesturing to the chair.</p>
<p>"Non, non merci," Remy said, and shifted again.</p>
<p>Strange looked to Jean-Luc, a question on his face. Jean-Luc told the boy: "Do not be rude."</p>
<p>Remy grimaced and said, again in his all-too loud voice: "But I <em>can't!</em> I got the whuppin' of the century yesterday and I can't sit!" He looked then almost tearful.</p>
<p>"Jean-Luc…?" Strange began.</p>
<p>Mattie whispered: "Tell 'em who hit ya, baby."</p>
<p>Remy nodded at The Antiquary. The five sorcerers turned to look at the accused.</p>
<p>"What does this have to do with <em>anything</em>? The creature was completely out of line!" The Antiquary insisted. "He destroyed a priceless amphora! I caught him at it, completely red handed."</p>
<p>"I said I tried to save it!" Remy yelled back. "I didn't throw the ball! It was that Marcus! I caughted the 'fro-ha but the pedestal falled on me!"</p>
<p>"<em>Amphora</em>, idiot! Now, be silent!" hissed The Antiquary. "I should have your tongue out, you wretched little-!"</p>
<p>"That is <em>enough</em>," Strange interrupted.</p>
<p>The Antiquary forced himself into calm. "So the devil was given a spanking," he continued in a blasé tone.</p>
<p>"A spanking?" Mattie said in an affronted voice, in disbelief. "Is that what you call what you did?"</p>
<p>"You have no place to speak here, woman," The Antiquary snapped.</p>
<p>Matilde Baptiste drew herself up to her full five-foot frame and gave the man a glare that could've peeled paint from a wall. It was a testimony to the arrogant man's complete lack of humanity that he wasn't destroyed by her Gorgon's glare.</p>
<p>"Is this testimony admissible?" Jean-Luc asked, took the boy by the arm and spun him around. He lifted the back of the boy's tunic, revealing his lower back. Only a portion of the damage done to him.</p>
<p>Jean-Luc saw the expressions on the sorcerers' faces. The woman sorcerer turned to fare The Antiquary with her own glare.</p>
<p>"So, you'd show sympathy to a <em>demon</em>?" The Antiquary said, waving his hand airily.</p>
<p>"It is obvious that the boy is not a demon," Strange said coldly. "He is…"</p>
<p>Jean-Luc shook his head slightly, hoping to silence his friend.</p>
<p>"An instance of child abuse is no reason to call a Sorcerer's tribunal," said one of the sorcerers. "Can you not handle this...internally?"</p>
<p>"As The Antiquary and myself have stated," Jean-Luc began, hating the words even before he spoke them. "By our account he is not a <em>child</em>. He is a demon, a rare instance of a <em>white </em>demon, as described in the text. An invaluable possession."</p>
<p>The Antiquary laughed a scoffing laugh. "Ah, <em>I see</em> what you're about now, Jean-Luc. How very clever! Really? Do you despise me so much for taking the creature, who you clearly wanted for yourself? It was decided by <em>our own Council</em> that the devil be placed in the Collection. Marceaux was correct when he said putting this <em>thing</em> in the care of our patriarch would reflect poorly on Clan LeBeau!"</p>
<p>"Does he always speak of the boy like this?" Strange asked Matilde.</p>
<p>"Always, sir," Mattie replied, nodding her head at the sorcerer.</p>
<p>"So you see, he is a <em>thing</em>," Jean-Luc continued. "Guild property, and by extension a benefit to de magical community, a valuable key to uncovering mystical secrets long forgotten."</p>
<p>"Fine! Fine, have it your way!" The Antiquary said. "He's not a devil, not demonic. Though he behaves like something from Hell. He's a filthy—mutant—brat."</p>
<p>Remy looked at Tante Mattie and whispered none too softly: "What's a mutint?"</p>
<p>"Shh, baby, I'll tell you later."</p>
<p>"Is it better or worse than being a devil?"</p>
<p>"Have a candy, baby doll," Mattie pulled a toffee from her handbag, clapped it over his mouth.</p>
<p>"Jean-Luc. You say he's...irrevocably damaged?" Doctor Strange asked.</p>
<p>"These 'whuppings', as Remy's called it, are only escalating as he…" (gets more sass-mouthed) "...gets older." Jean-Luc looked to Mattie, who produced a file of gruesome photographic evidence from her handbag. Jean-Luc placed the file onto the table beside the book. No one seemed enthusiastic about opening it. "That, and whatever else dis man's done to de boy's mind with his constant belittling. Didn't speak a word 'til he was two-."</p>
<p>"He came like that!" The Antiquary insisted. "He's an imbecile!"</p>
<p>"Remy, what was de last book you read?" Jean-Luc asked.</p>
<p>"Uhm..," Remy slurred around the candy in his mouth. "The Odysshey. Shome of it don't make any sench to me...but I liked the part where he'sh schtuck on de island with Calypso. Penelope was shooo boring."</p>
<p>"How old are you, Remy?" the woman sorcerer asked.</p>
<p>He held up one hand, five fingers extended: "This many."</p>
<p>The sorcerers all stared at his hand, fingers mostly blackened with bruises, palm cut in two.</p>
<p>"I have come to a decision," Doctor Strange said, and stood.</p>
<p>It was a Pyrrhic victory for Jean-Luc. Overall, a benefit to the Guild and the clans to be rid of The Antiquary. But a tragedy for the boy, who didn't deserve to be treated so horribly. Not to mention the weight of guilt set upon Jean-Luc for not having been able to pull the boy out of that place sooner.</p>
<p>After the verdict was given, the sentence meted out, Doctor Strange approached Remy. "I'm very sorry to see that you were hurt," he told the boy. "You know, my own hands were...injured quite badly. But sometimes very good things can come out of the very bad. We are made better for it."</p>
<p>Remy did appear to listen to the sorcerer, but what came out of his mouth was: "Hey, do you know Cap'n America? Can you have him sign my card?" Remy produced a trading card bearing Captain America's face from his pocket.</p>
<p>"Ah. Well. I could perhaps get you Iron Man's signature?"</p>
<p>Remy blew air out through his lips to make a rude sound, conveying what he thought of that particular idea.</p>
<p>Doctor Strange laughed at that.</p>
<p>"C'mon, Remy. Let your old Tante Mattie get you healed up," Mattie told him, and guided him towards the exit. "Why don't you say goodbye to these nice folks now?"</p>
<p>"So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, goodbye!" Remy waved one of his damaged hands. Mattie led him through the doorway, closed the door behind them. He sang in a high voice as clear as a bell: "<em>Gooooobyyye</em>!"</p>
<p>"What will become of the boy now?" Strange asked Jean-Luc. "Will you take him in?"</p>
<p>Jean-Luc crossed his arms over his chest, cast his gaze downward, shook his head. "Non. He's better off not in de middle of Guild politics. Gettin' hazed and bullied by de other kids..the adults. Should be allowed ta have some freedom after bein' cooped up so long. There's a certain amount of...indoctrination...dat goes into growin' up like I did. Rather he got an idea of other ways of thinkin'."</p>
<p>"It seems to me you managed well enough, Jean-Luc," Strange said.</p>
<p>"Well enough ain't good enough," Jean-Luc replied. "Merci bien. Be seein' you sooner rather than later, I'm sure."</p>
<p>"Only two curses so far," Strange said amicably. "<em>This</em> year."</p>
<p>Remy was placed in the care of a man calling himself Fagan, who had no use for either the Thieves' or Assassins' Guilds as he was a bastard of both. He took lackadaisical care of a small cadre of wayward kids who had the run of several streets in the city. The worst that could be said of the man was that he read entirely too much British literature to the kids, who, when they were occasionally caught by authorities, spoke only in couplets with fake British accents.</p>
<p>Reports of Remy's antics came sporadically from both Fagan or Mattie. Fagan at first assured Jean-Luc that the boy just needed time to settle in. Then, that the boy was quite clever, but not when it came to responding to authority. Also, he refused to be taught anything but had to learn things the hardest way possible. That he was happy to share differing opinions regardless of other people's feelings, and his mouth wasn't winning him any friends. The boy took any slight or unfairness he witnessed <em>real personal</em>.</p>
<p>Jean-Luc knew of another smart, loud-mouthed, friendless little kid who had unfairnesses committed against her all the time. Who was treated as a doll, whose feelings were disregarded or ignored outright on account of her being a girl. It was arranged that Remy be assigned to the streets BellaDonna traversed on her way to and from the private school she attended. It would only be a matter of time before Remy witnessed some unfairness visited upon the little tow-headed daughter of Marius Boudreaux, otherwise known as the Assassins' Guild patriarch. It happened the very first week. Mattie later reported that the two kids were very happy to argue incessantly with one another, that when they scuffled the injuries were not so severe, and overall, they both seemed much better off. Remy and Belle spent a lot of time at Mattie's house, neutral ground for both Guilds, acting like the children they were. Except for Belle's knife-throwing skills and Remy's advanced knowledge of filthy jokes.</p>
<p>Remy was spending more time messing around with Belle and not bringing home any earnings. Fagan grumbled a little bit about the lack of income until Jean-Luc pressed some money from the LeBeau coffers into his hand. Fagan then said he was only being contrary and attempted to return the money. Then Jean-Luc and the none-too-nice-but-all-too-kind Fagan got into an argument of their own. (Jean-Luc: Why don't you read these kids some decent French authors? Fagan: Jean-Luc, these kids ain't about to listen to some baby book about a little prince brat when there's Chaucer to be read! Jean-Luc: They're children! Read them children's books! Chaucer is a pervert!). It ended with Fagan saying that the boy asked too many questions, about mutants, about where other mutant kids were, that Remy'd heard about a group of mutant kids who fought another mutant named Magneto at Cape Citadel in Florida. And wouldn't a good place to look for mutants be in New York City, where all the other super-powered people hung out?</p>
<p>Remy had been in the Collection for five years, with Fagan for another five. Jean-Luc felt his hand was forced. It was time to bring Remy into his home. He could not risk the boy leaving New Orleans, risk him drawing attention to himself. And really, what kind of parent let their teenage kid go off and fight some megalomaniac couyon who wore a bucket on his head and his underwear on the outside? Over nuclear weapons, no less! Jean-Luc knew with certainty, that if Remy showed up on any kind of public scene, something bad would happen to him. <em>Someone</em> bad would come for him.</p>
<p>Jean-Luc contrived to make himself available to the boy, visiting the streets he was known to work, sometimes pickpocketing, but more often charming people out of food or money. Jean-Luc thought Remy would eventually get curious enough to approach him. Instead, the boy tried to rob him. That <em>was </em>a surprise, but Jean-Luc managed to grab a fistful of the kid's hair before he made his escape.</p>
<p>"Just what do you think you're doin'?" Jean-Luc asked with exasperation, pulling the boy towards him. Remy's sunglasses had fallen askew, revealing one dark red eye. His expression was momentarily one of surprise, but quickly turned into a cheeky grin. Jean-Luc briefly thought: I have got to do something about this kid's teeth. Magic is not going to cure that jack-o-lantern smile.</p>
<p>"Oh! Bonjour, your most royal highness! Mighty King of Thieves," Remy said, Jean-Luc's hand still tangled in his hair. "I just saw you dropped your wallet!" Remy produced Jean-Luc's wallet from somewhere on his person. "And your watch. And also dis pack of gum. And some pocket lint? Were you wanting dis back? I would happily take a cash reward for its safe return!"</p>
<p>Jean-Luc stared at him. "I don't know what I'm going to do wit' dis boy," he said aloud to himself.</p>
<p>"Can I just keep de gum?" Remy asked.</p>
<p>Jean-Luc decreed that in return for sparing his life, Remy would serve the King of Thieves, live in his home (okay!), eat his food (even better!), and be properly schooled (no, thanks!). He'd also have a kind-hearted big brother, a beautiful (less kind, but still dear) sister-in-law, and yes, he could have a pet. A cat. <em>One </em>cat.</p>
<p>There were now three cats.</p>
<p>Jean-Luc had a headache. It was nearing the end of the year and sums were not coming up so rosy in the plus column. He pushed his reading glasses onto his forehead and rubbed his eyes tiredly. It was nearly 9am, but it looked like he'd be working the rest of the day. When his blurred vision cleared, it was to see Remy's chin perched on the corner of Jean-Luc's desk, just his head visible. His expression was one of blank sternness, as if he were a marble bust. When Jean-Luc stared at him, Remy slowly crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue.</p>
<p>"Remy, don't you have somewhere else t'be?" Jean-Luc asked.</p>
<p>Remy stood: "Lemme check out de basement."</p>
<p>"We don't have a base-," Jean-Luc began.</p>
<p>Remy disappeared behind the desk, looking as if he were descending a staircase. He re-emerged at the far end of the desk, miming an ascent from below at Jean-Luc's right hand side.</p>
<p>"Turns out, we don't have a basement," Remy said.</p>
<p>Jean-Luc put his elbow to the desk, his chin in his palm and fingers over his mouth. When he trusted himself enough to speak, Jean-Luc told the boy: "Don't think I don't know what you're up to."</p>
<p>Remy prostrated himself on the ground by Jean-Luc's feet. "I live only to serve, my liege."</p>
<p>"Get on up, off de floor now," Jean-Luc said and Remy hopped to his feet. Jean-Luc beckoned Remy closer and he half-looked afraid he was about to be delivered a smack to the head. Jean-Luc pulled the boy to his side.</p>
<p>"Think you're pretty funny, enh?" Jean-Luc said.</p>
<p>"Is dere an answer I can give that doesn't end wit' me gettin' slapped?"</p>
<p>"I'm not about t'slap you," Jean-Luc told him. "I'd sooner slap myself for bringing you here." He smiled and squeezed the boy's shoulder to show that he was speaking in jest.</p>
<p>"Your job," he continued. "Isn't to cajole, entertain, distract or otherwise take care of adults. Your job is to do your studies, fulfill your duties to your clan and our Guild, and keep practicin' your skills."</p>
<p>"O-oh!" Remy said with mock surprise. "<em>Is dat all?</em> Boy, what will I do wit' all my free time?"</p>
<p>"How about until bedtime, you <em>go outside and play</em>," Jean-Luc said, and not in a way that made it sound like he was making a request.</p>
<p>"What? What's dat all about?" Remy asked and laughed. "Like, robbers and cops?"</p>
<p>"Well, what do other ten-year-olds do in those books you're always reading?"</p>
<p>"Climb inta peaches and make friends wit' giant bugs? Go through closets and meet talkin' lions? Drive a car through a magical world of puns come to life?"</p>
<p>There was a jumbled box of books in the corner of Jean-Luc's office, damaged castoffs from the library. Jean-Luc stood from his office chair and rummaged through the contents. "How about dis one?" he offered Remy a book about a magical treehouse. "Aside from de magic part, I think the rest is fairly achievable with de junk in Mattie's shed, de oak in her backyard, and your little girlfriend's help."</p>
<p>"She. Is. Not. My. Girlfriend!"</p>
<p>"Friend who is a girl," Jean-Luc corrected. "Now, make yourself scarce. And you mind your Tante."</p>
<p>It was well past noon (curfew was 11am at the latest) and Remy hadn't returned. Jean-Luc hadn't finished divvying up what was left to the clans post-tithing. So when the phone rang, he was maybe a little grumpy that someone should be calling the house at this ungodly hour. All was forgiven when he realized it was Mattie. So... there'd been an accident. Jean-Luc gave up the sums (more like minuses) and walked to his friend's home, bracing himself for the worst. Mattie assured him it looked a lot worse than it was. She could heal the bruises, but Remy was having a fit about her trying to reset broken bone. His nose was definitely facing a western direction, plus two black eyes, blood all over the boy's face and shirt. Jean-Luc glared at Belle, but she claimed it was Remy who dropped the hammer on himself.</p>
<p>Remy defended her, taking the ice pack off his face to argue back.</p>
<p>At the sight of Remy's face, Jean-Luc put his own face in his hands.</p>
<p>"Whoo, boy. You sure are ugly," Belle said. "Never marry you now!"</p>
<p>"Who'd say I'd ask you anyhow, stupid!" Remy said back.</p>
<p>"Remy…," Jean-Luc began.</p>
<p>"You awful mad?" Remy asked.</p>
<p>"No. I'm not mad. I'm jus' wonderin' if I'll ever be able to let you out of my sight without you doin' irreparable damage to yourself," Jean-Luc said, and pushed the ice pack back onto Remy's face.</p>
<p>"Enh, poppa, your future's lookin' mighty grim," Remy said, his voice muffled. "Bet you regret takin' me in now."</p>
<p>Jean-Luc had plenty of things to regret, but Remy wasn't one of them.</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <span>End of Part I</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next time: A brief encounter with Destiny.</p>
<p>Remy's random references:</p>
<p>Chapter 6<br/>Strange women lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a new system… Monty Python and the Quest for the Holy Grail</p>
<p>“And now, here’s something we hope you’ll really like!” - Rocky &amp; Bullwinkle</p>
<p>“Is it a bird? Is it a plane?” It’s Superman!</p>
<p>“She blinded me...with science!” She Blinded Me With Science by Thomas Dolby</p>
<p>These little angels - “three little angels” is a camp song</p>
<p>Chapter 7<br/>“I can call you Betty, and Betty, when you call me, you can call me Al - Call Me Al, Paul Simon</p>
<p>Mork from Ork - Mork &amp; Mindy sitcom</p>
<p>Fight For Your Right - Beastie Boys</p>
<p>Ch 8<br/>Goodbye Song - Sound of Music</p>
<p>Can you guess the three books Remy references?</p>
<p>Thank you for your gracious reviews and kudos. Hope you're stickin' with me.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Part II: The Tempest</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Gambit was wrapped around Belle, her arms around him, clinging to one another as if all the forces of the universe were conspiring to tear them apart. Jean-Luc blamed Remy's overemotional reactions on Tante Mattie's rearing of him, but in Remy's opinion, there were marble busts in the Uffizi that betrayed more emotion than Jean-Luc. Remy was pretty emotional now, and was grateful for the reporter's departure. No one needed to bear witness to the misery Remy was experiencing. His friends, all dead and vanished, and him, still alive somehow. They'd left him behind.</p><p>Mystique had arrived, breathless, at the Aerie. Demanding to know where Rogue had gone, how and why she'd vanished. Forge haltingly explained, his voice choking out the words. His fault, for opening the portal...for closing it again and taking the X-Men's souls along with it.</p><p>"Murderer!" Mystique screamed as Forge began to walk away. He passed by her, through the doorway to the staircase that would take him to the lower floors. Mystique called after him: "You're a <em>murderer!</em>"</p><p>Forge did not contradict her and continued to walk away, so Gambit croaked out: "It was their <em>choice</em>. Don't belittle their sacrifice."</p><p>Mystique rounded on him, her fury apparent. Her voice was thick with emotion and hatred when she yelled: "What do you know? You pathetic-worthless-<em>thief</em>. So worthless, even Hell rejected you!"</p><p>The police officer's pistol was suddenly in Belle's hand, aimed at Mystique. "I <em>know </em>a thing or two about murder," she said coldly in her low voice. "Allow me to offer you a demonstration of what it looks like."</p><p>Gambit put a hand on her wrist, forced her to lower her weapon.</p><p>Belle's expression was furious. She screamed at Mystique: "Say it again, you bitch! Tell him he's worthless! It's <em>your</em> life he saved! You owe him a life-debt. All'a you <em>owe him!</em>"</p><p>Mystique was marching in their direction where they sat entwined together on the floor. "You just made yourself an enemy," she snarled at Belle.</p><p>"Raven," said a whispery voice from the entry to the Aerie. "Please. That is enough."</p><p>It was the precog, Destiny. She was bracing herself against the open door. Mystique turned to look at the old woman.</p><p>"I do not think I can manage the stairs again," Destiny said feebly.</p><p>Raven let out a sound that might have been a half-sob. She pressed her fist to her mouth. Gambit thought Freedom Force to be the X-Men's adversaries. Why was this woman so upset? Mystique finally choked out: "I'll use Forge's comm-link to hail Pyro. Tell him to bring up the V-22."</p><p>Destiny lowered her head. Mystique departed, leaving by the same door Forge had vanished through. When Mystique was gone, Destiny slowly approached. Belle was still breathing quite hard, her pent up rage not yet spent. Gambit turned and pressed a kiss into her hair. Destiny lowered herself beside him. Her hand found his shoulder. He regarded her, somewhat confused.</p><p>"I am very sorry," Destiny told him. "For your losses. You are right, it was their choice. I would have expected no less from them."</p><p>Remy nodded, his throat too tight to allow words. It didn't matter, she couldn't see him anyway.</p><p>"Sometimes," Destiny said in a voice made creaky by advanced age, "I find when the visions become overwhelming...it is helpful to write them down."</p><p>"But," Belle said. "You can't...you can't even see."</p><p>Destiny nodded. "No, I cannot. But...it gives me some...feeling of control. To expunge the visions from my mind and put them to paper."</p><p>Remy again nodded his understanding. It seemed as though Destiny had more to say, but she was interrupted when Mystique shouted from the lobby: "Renie! We're leaving!"</p><p>Destiny struggled to stand and Remy detangled himself from Belle to hop to his feet. He helped the old woman, propped her upright. "Let us help you," he told the woman as Belle rose as well.</p><p>"I can manage," she said and smiled a watery smile. "Thank you. You were raised a kind man."</p><p>"That's debatable…" Remy began and Belle nudged him. Remy turned to look down at her. She wrapped her arms around him again.</p><p>"Don't talk mean about my husband," she said into his chest.</p><p>"Irene!" Mystique called again, impatient.</p><p>Destiny had already started away, she was nearly to the door. Remy rested his chin on the top of Belle's head and closed his eyes. There was a sound of a coin dropping into a slot. A lever was pulled. This was followed by the sound of spinning reels in a slot machine. Three number 7s dropped into place in Remy's mind's eye. He felt a jolt, as if stung by one of Storm's static shocks. He drew away from Belle, turned to where Destiny had disappeared.</p><p>"Irene?" he called, then started towards the open door.</p><p>Out in the atrium, standing on the landing he saw that the glass wall had been blasted away. Outside was a jet/helicopter hybrid, it's rotors thumping, causing the tropical trees within the atrium to whip and sway. Rainwater blasted Remy in the face.</p><p>"<em>Irene Adler!</em>" he shouted, his voice swallowed by sound. He rubbed his sleeve over his eyes. Saw the woman, Destiny, guided into the V-22 by Mystique. Gambit ran towards the aircraft. Once Destiny was inside, she was abruptly seated. The aircraft banked away from the Aerie just as Remy neared the window ledge.</p><p>"Irene!" he shouted again. Mystique was staring at him with her pitiless gold eyes. She pulled the door hatch shut, sealing both herself and Destiny from view. For a single irrational moment, Remy considered leaping onto the aircraft's wing, but then he cast his gaze downward and saw how very high up he was. The aircraft began to rise up over the Aerie. The rotors turned themselves, and suddenly, the vehicle was jetting away.</p><p>Rainwater was stinging his eyes. Ororo, Logan, Betsy, Piotr, Rogue. All gone...dead. Destiny gone too, and with her, any answers he might have had; about who he was, what was done to him in that fated Black Womb experiment. His losses compounded, he felt a horrible pain in his chest. When he turned away from the window it was to see Belle. She must have read the expression on his face because her troubled gaze became one of abject emphatic sadness.</p><p>"Remy…" she said and closed the gap between them. Once more in her arms he buried his face in her neck. She held him for several long moments, her hands in his hair, saying comforting jumbled words in creole.</p><p>When it seemed he'd got a grip on himself, Belle asked him: "What do you want t'do, me sha?"</p><p>He turned his mouth to her ear, whispered into it. She nodded and took him by the hand. They returned to the Aerie workroom. Lay down in long wet grass together. Removed their clothing. Belle straddled his hips and he looked up at her, pale against the backdrop of a clear night sky, yet still caught in a light warm rain inside. It was nice to feel something other than pain, even if it was just for this moment.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next time: Let's find out what Rogue's been up to, shall we?</p><p>Notes: "You're a murderer" is taken directly from Claremont's work, Fall of the Mutants. The rest is my invention.</p><p>Thanks readers for following, kudos-ing, and commenting. Many kudos to you too. I love investigating your other favorite stories so I can read them too.</p><p>And well, if you don't comment, do you think that's gonna stop me from posting!? You're wrong! Can't stop, won't stop.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sexual content in this chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>September, 1998</p>
<p>The X-Men had found themselves in a sort of non-place after the demon portal had closed. Think: blank white void. The goddess Roma appeared before the eight X-Men (sans Gambit). She told them their sacrifice was noteworthy amongst the heavenly ordained set, and that the X-Men were granted a collective reprieve (yes, but <em>where </em>was <em>Remy</em>?). Their bodies were dead, but what do you know, here's a new set of duds for your souls to pop on into (okay, so you're <em>not</em> going to tell us what happened to Remy, are you?). Rogue found herself back in her familiar body. Though it was really weird to have feet as soft as a baby's and all her freckles erased. They were all offered alternative options when Roma presented them some weird crystal thingy called the Siege Perilous. For whenever they decided they needed a break from superheroing and wanted a "do-over." No one was brave enough to use it...yet.</p>
<p>The X-Men made their residence in Cooterman's Creek, Australia, in the high-tech base formerly managed by The Reavers. Domestic terrorists, now deposed, thanks to the X-Men. All of this unbeknownst to the world in general, and their friends and family in particular. Ororo thought it best, to protect those they were closest to, to stay dead. That thought to be dead, they might better catch their foes unawares and form a covert strike team. But currently, anti-mutant sentiment was at an all-time low. After watching a globally televised event where nine (or eight) mutants gave up their lives to save the universe from being overrun by chaos demons, people started to have a change of heart. It would be foolish now to appear in the mainstream again and say: "Just kidding! We're alive after all!"</p>
<p>That didn't make it less difficult to break off contact with the others back home. Rogue thought Remy dead until she saw the news reports, and then it was proved that the charming thief was very much alive. Remy probably thought himself the lone survivor of a terrible tragedy. True, in the months previous, Rogue had reduced their contact to a minimum, only briefly talking to him on the phone since Christmas. She recalled the time when he'd told her that touching was overrated. That if you couldn't be with the one you loved, you regretted ever touching them in the first place. She knew now he was talking about BellaDonna, <em>his wife</em>. Rogue was within her rights to be mad at him, maybe even hate him. Except she found she couldn't. And when she heard his familiar drawl over the phone line, it just made her heart ache. It was easier to try and put him behind her, put what they shared behind her. So maybe being pretend-dead could help move things along, emotional-wise.</p>
<p>But no, she couldn't forget him, even if she wanted to. Rogue was standing in the supermarket checkout, waiting for her few purchases to slide down the belt when she saw the tabloid. It showed a photo of two dimly lit silhouettes, just a sliver of light separating their lips from a kiss. Remy's familiar profile, bump in his nose, red eyes glowing softly. "<em>REAL LIFE ROMEO &amp; JULIET: But With a Happy Ending!" </em>read the headline. Rogue ripped the copy of the <em>Northern Territory News </em>from the rack. "<em>The couple that captured the imagination of the world! NTN has the inside scoop. Who are the mysterious mutants...and is that a baby bump we see?</em>"</p>
<p>Rogue crumpled the paper and the checkout clerk said: "You're gonna t'have t'pay for that!"</p>
<p>Then she saw Remy on a CBS fluff piece from the States, and he seemed as chipper as ever. He was kinda sorta answering Trish Tilby's questions with that smarmy smile on his face, his hair now shorter on the sides and back, but still flopping down into his dark red eyes from the top. Wearing a pair of purple cat-eye shades, and a flashy gold large-collared shirt out of the 70s, unbuttoned to an inappropriate degree. Rogue had to wonder what would make him ever agree to an interview, and what kind of masochist Tilby had to be to want to question him. Rogue speculated Remy was doing it as a favor to Hank. The only things Tilby got out of Remy were that he was from the South (no specifics, and Rogue could tell he'd modulated his accent to match her own), the name he gave was Robert (not Bob, Rob, and definitely <em>not</em> Bobby); his wife's name, Belinda. That the two had met at age seven. And yes, a baby was due at Christmas. The rest of the interview was spent in random asides and sci-fi references and ended with a social-justice argument that Tilby was unable to extricate herself from.</p>
<p>It was enough to make one want to throw herself through the Siege Perilous. Okay, so Rogue didn't do it on purpose. She was thrown through it by a Sentinel.</p>
<p>Rogue's new life was to take place in the Savage Land, it seemed. Unfortunately, Carol Danvers was along for the ride. And after emerging from the SP, Rogue and Carol found themselves in separate bodies. And boy, was Carol pissed. It turned out the two of them couldn't exist on the same plane. Someone had to die and Carol made it clear she wasn't going to be the one to buy the farm. There began the catfight of the century, and though Rogue was capable-she was not willing-to finally put an end to the ghost-Carol. Then Magneto showed up and saved her, destroying the shade that once was Carol's psyche.</p>
<p>Magneto approached and looked curiously down at her. After the battle, Rogue was lying face-up on the ground, spread-eagle, sweating, panting, and her uniform torn to shreds. As it turned out, the remnants of her uniform would pass for clothing in the coming months (when she decided she even needed clothes). Savage Land was very, very hot, after all. And it didn't matter if all her skin was exposed. Magneto was immune to her powers, which she more or less had control over. And he was the only person she really interacted with. Only her original absorption powers remained, though Magnus hinted that he could restore her flight, strength and invulnerability...in time.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, Rogue was stranded in an isolated tropical paradise at the bottom of the globe, living in a citadel, with the handsome older man who had saved her life. It could be <em>a lot</em> worse. It was easy to get caught up in the romance of the place, Magnus' attention focused solely on her. Especially when bathing in the hot springs. Away from endless mutant strife, Magnus was different. The isolation made him contemplative. He had left the New Mutants after they mutinied, tired of his strict control and his having denounced humanity after one of his charges was tragically killed. Now he was here, licking his wounds and puttering about with advanced technology while ruling over the mutates of the Savage Land.</p>
<p>While maybe he ruled with an iron fist, his hands on her were gentle. They just weren't quite in the right place at the moment. She moved his hand to her breast.</p>
<p>"Touch me here," she whispered. He was atop, between her legs, moving slowly inside of her. She attempted to quicken his pace with a roll of her hips.</p>
<p>Magnus complied with the touch, but remained steadfast in his pacing.</p>
<p>"Can you kiss me there?" she said. His head lowered, kissed her throat, then moved lower as she indicated, stopping just shy of the spot she wanted.</p>
<p>She paused him to change positions, turned on her side so he was behind her now. "Put your fingers here," she said, moving his hand between her legs. Instead, he moved over her and she rolled to her front. He wrapped his hands around her own and pressed them gently to the mattress, and moved inside her again from behind. Rogue wriggled a hand free. She reached down and under her hips, touched herself, smiled, and released a sigh. She was nearly where she wanted to be when she felt Magnus press his forehead to her shoulder and give a sigh of his own. He moved away to lay beside her.</p>
<p>Rogue rolled onto her back and looked at him, his face in profile. She took his hand again and placed it on her stomach. "Got an appetite, sugah?" she whispered. "Ah wondered if you and your tongue might meet up with me in the kitchen <em>downstairs</em>...Ah've got somethin' you're gonna want to try." And she let her knees fall to either side, moved his hand to her 'kitchen.'</p>
<p>She saw his eyebrows come together. His eyes reopened and he turned to regard her.</p>
<p>"What?" Rogue asked, with a grin.</p>
<p>"I did not expect you to be...so vulgar," he told her, his expression serious.</p>
<p>Rogue propped herself up on her elbow, gave him a surly look. "Was it vulgar what Ah did t'you down by the hot springs yesterday?"</p>
<p>"There was not any…crass innuendo involved."</p>
<p>"Well, last Ah knew, you weren't a mind-reader. So, thought Ah'd just give you a...bit of direction."</p>
<p>"Rogue," he said, his tone disapproving.</p>
<p>"Okay, then. I would like for you to perform cunnilingus on my person," she said in a clipped, professional voice. "There, no innuendo involved."</p>
<p>Magnus sat up and looked down at her. "You find it amusing, do you. Your attempts to make me uncomfortable?"</p>
<p>"You know what, if you're gonna make this weird, Ah'll go take care of business mahself!" Rogue tossed the bedclothes from her body. She didn't know why they were under them to begin with, it was too damn hot. She sashayed into the bathroom, sad that the door only slid aside and closed with a pneumatic hiss and not a SLAM, which is what she'd prefer.</p>
<p>She twisted the bathtub tap, which thanks to the springs warming the citadel, the water came out instantly hot. She tempered it with a bit of cold and climbed into the water before it had even filled the tub a few inches. Rogue lay back onto the bottom of the basin and skootched herself towards the flow of water, legs akimbo and sticking out of the tub. Satisfied with her position, the flow of water between her legs, she closed her eyes as the tub began to fill. Water slowly crept up the sides of her face, filling her ears and muffling the sound of the knock on the bathroom door. She lifted her head.</p>
<p>"Go away! Ah'm doin' something vulgar in here!" she yelled, her voice echoing.</p>
<p>She lay back down into the steamy water, regaining her composure and thinking about the nice warm baths (in a very localized area) that she'd been given in the past.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next time: Xavier School For Gifted Youngsters Class Reunion hosted by the Muir Island Research Facility</p>
<p>Next update on Friday/Saturday with a super-long chapter. Thanks for your feedback.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>See end notes for trigger warnings, but avoid them if you don't want spoilers.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>November, 1998</p>
<p>So that ended...badly. Not the lackluster bedroom antics. The murder of Zaladane before Rogue's very eyes, even as the woman was completely taken out of the fight, without her powers, without any way to defend herself. It was suggested that Zaladane be subjected to a global court trial for her crimes, just as Magneto had faced just a few short years ago. But Magneto dismissed the suggestion and instead, convicted Zaladane, sentenced her, and carried out the punishment. A metal spike impaled her corpse to the floor. Rogue felt the spray of the woman's blood on her face. The murder had happened in an instant, an eyeblink. Afterwards, Colonel Nick Fury and those under his command attempted to subdue and apprehend Magneto. The aftermath made Rogue regret ever speaking up to Fury on Magneto's behalf, vouching for him. It made her look a stupid, naive fool. And maybe she was. Maybe if Carol still had a say, she'd have seen Magneto for what he was.</p>
<p>Rogue took off after that. Somehow, it seemed that outside of Magneto's immediate influence, she was able to regain her powers of flight, speed, strength and invulnerability. <em>Weird</em>, how that worked… She knew now that Magnus wasn't looking for a romance. What Magneto got off on was blind adoration and subservient loyalty. Not passion, not love. Rogue soared off through the air, leaving the heat and humidity of the Savage Land, letting the chill of the Antarctic air sober her up. Then she began the long flight northward. She didn't know if she could face Logan or Ororo, even begin to explain what happened. Fury and Logan were drinking and smoking buddies...it would probably be a matter of time before they'd <em>all</em> know. So instead of going back to Australia, Rogue turned to Great Britain, home of Excalibur. About as unfamiliar a setting as she could get.</p>
<p>Flying over the UK, skimming the cities, she saw clusters of people gathered shouting angry slogans. The occasional building or vehicle was on fire. Law enforcement attempted to turn back rioters. People were being tear gassed, beaten in the streets.</p>
<p>Slogans included such old-time favorite hits as 'Mutancy = Disease,' 'Lock Them Up,' and that ole chestnut: 'Die Mutie Freaks.'</p>
<p>"What the actual fudge is that all about," Rogue muttered to herself. Perhaps she was also naive to believe that anti-mutant hysteria was done and over with when they proved perfectly capable of saving the universe (as opposed to destroying it).</p>
<p>She arrived at Excalibur headquarters along the Britain coastline and found it beset by a contingent of angry locals who had taken to burning wooden Xs on the Braddock property.</p>
<p>"Nice, real classy," Rogue grumbled. She made a u-turn and instead took off to Scotland to pop in at the Muir Island research facility.</p>
<p>Muir Island was little better, but the population was significantly less here than on the mainland. So the rioting was not as severe. Rogue arrived as a surprise, wearing SHIELD armor and a miserable expression on her face.</p>
<p>"Oh my gosh, Rogue!" Kitty enthusiastically greeted her with a scream, then threw her arms around her. "You...you're <em>alive!</em>"</p>
<p>Rogue felt a sudden shock. A tear in her uniform, and Kitty, dressed in her nightgown, touching that small patch of skin. They both exclaimed in surprise when Rogue's absorption powers kicked on.</p>
<p>"Kitty! Ah'm so…! Ah don't know what happened," Rogue said, shocked and embarrassed. She thought she had a handle on that. Another thing to be wrong about, it seemed. Maybe...maybe she was just out of practice. Maybe…?</p>
<p>Rogue burst into tears.</p>
<p>"No, no," Kitty said, patting her on her shoulder armor. "It's okay! It was just a tiny zap. You're probably just tired. C'mon, let me show you around. You can get a shower and I'll lend you some things. Then tomorrow, you have to tell me <em>everything! </em>But then <em>I</em> get to be the one to call Gambit to tell <em>him!</em> He is. Going. To. <em>Freak</em>. Out! Ha ha! Revenge is sweet!"</p>
<p>Rogue wiped her eyes with the palm of her hand. She supposed she might need gloves again. Tears continued to pour from her eyes. "Revenge? But-wha-?" she shook her head. "Kitty, what all is goin' on outside? Why's everyone so up in arms?"</p>
<p>Kitty shook her head, gave an exaggerated shrug. "We have <em>no idea</em>," she said with frustration.</p>
<p>Rogue was shown to a room. "Look, make yourself at home. I'm going to go find Kurt and Moira." Kitty put her hands up in a "stay here" motion. "Now, don't take off, okay! People will think I'm seeing things!"</p>
<p>"Ah'm sure people will believe whatever you tell 'em, sugah."</p>
<p>Kitty made a dubious face. "Well, you know how weird people are acting right now? It's like it's contagious. I mean, some of the others are having, like, gladiator battles in this arena they've set up. We're all a little…" she pointed to her head with both index fingers and crossed her eyes. "Cuckoo for Coco Puffs."</p>
<p>Rogue's hands dropped helplessly to her sides. "What did Ah just fly mahself into?"</p>
<p>"Anyway, we could all use some good news! You'll never guess…"</p>
<p>"What, that—?"</p>
<p>"That Professor Xavier is back!" Kitty hopped up and down.</p>
<p>"Ya didn't give me a chance to guess!"</p>
<p>"Piotr's bringing him here. He's alive too! The prof has an idea of what all the nuttiness is about. It's going to be like a big family reunion! Oh my gosh, do you know how many rooms I've had to set up?"</p>
<p>Rogue sank onto the end of the nearby bed. "Ah'm...Ah'm feelin' a bit overwhelmed, Kitty."</p>
<p>"Oh, right, sorry! Jet lag. Okay, you just chill! Bathroom's right down the hall."</p>
<p>"Thanks, sugah," Rogue said tiredly. When Kitty departed, Rogue shucked the armor, leaving herself in a black bodysuit. It luckily didn't show the blood. She debated the pros and cons of just going to sleep versus showering, but then decided the shower was a good idea. Because of the blood.</p>
<p>She tottered down the hall and into the crisp bathroom of gleaming white tiles. Rogue pulled off the bodysuit, ran it under the tap in the sink and watched Zaladane's blood swirl down the drain. She draped the suit over a towel bar and put the towel within reach of the shower/tub combo. Rogue turned on the water and waited for the spray to warm. Once at a scalding temperature, she stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain shut. She leaned back under the spray, rivulets of water rolling down her face, mixing with her tears. She heaved a few sobs. She felt so disappointed, angry...so alone. The faintest trickle of Kitty's thoughts reminded her of what it felt like to always have company. To just take what she wanted to know from people's heads. Not have to wait for someone to explain to her what was going on.</p>
<p>She felt hands stroke her arms, from shoulder to wrist and back again. Turning now to face the shower spray, Rogue let her head tip back to rest against a broad chest. She sighed, and long-fingered hands cupped her breasts. Touched her in just the way she liked. The hands moved lower, and she slightly lifted a leg to one side, to give him better access. Her throaty moan echoed against tile walls. His mouth was on her neck, traveling upwards to behind her ear, breath tickling her. Rogue turned her head, his mouth found hers, his kiss firm and possessive. She moaned against his mouth, feeling him entering her, filling her. Claiming her body, her mind. Rogue caught herself against the shower walls, gasping as she climaxed.</p>
<p>With a shaking hand, she pulled back the curtain and stepped from the bath. Her hand swept across the mirror, clearing it momentarily of condensation. Rogue ran a tongue over her swollen lower lip, looked up into her own green eyes. They seemed overbright, glowing almost.</p>
<p>She did not recognize her own expression. It did not match what she was feeling inside; powerful, confident. No, her eyes looked <em>terrified.</em> Rogue turned away and picked up the damp bodysuit. Pulled it back onto her body. She ignored the boots, having no intention of walking anywhere. She was met up with Kitty in the hallway. The girl was carrying a tray with a sandwich. She greeted Rogue with a smile.</p>
<p>"Thought you might be hu-uck!"</p>
<p>Rogue had seized the girl by the throat, let her absorption powers activate. Drained Kitty of her powers, her knowledge. The girl crumpled, the tray hit the ground with a clatter. So...Xavier was due to arrive within the hour. Others had already arrived or their arrival was imminent. Former members of X-Factor, the contingent from Australia...<em>Storm</em>, Freedom Force, and a few hangers-on...the thief and the assassin. Rogue's master was pleased to see the upstart untrained female knight, wanting to meet her on the Astral Plane again and make her <em>suffer...</em></p>
<p>Rogue grinned. "Make them both suffer," she said. The thief, for making a fool out of her. The assassin, for taking away what was hers, <em>Rogue's</em>.</p>
<p>Rogue floated down the hall to the window at the end. Looked out into the nightfall beyond, a dark purple sky full of gathering storm clouds. She phased through the glass and took flight, arcing over the ocean that smashed itself against the shoreline, to fly over the research facility. She saw a cluster of humans, attempting to construct another wooden X. Rogue targeted them, punched her way through the wooden beams, picked up a splintered wood post, and smashed a human in the face with it. Another she grabbed and tossed like a ragdoll. He landed in a crumpled heap several yards away. The next, the most handsome one with the thick red hair, she lifted from his feet. Rogue flew upwards, pressed her mouth to his, drew in his strength even as he attempted to protest. She dropped him. He landed on both feet from a height that broke one of his legs. He didn't make a sound, he was unconscious.</p>
<p>There was a fourth man, running along the rocky coastline. Rogue turned and pursued him. She was forced to stop when a sudden BAMF interrupted her pursuit.</p>
<p>"Rogue!" Nightcrawler said. "Please, stop!"</p>
<p>Rogue attempted to swat him from the air. He vanished again to reappear at her side.</p>
<p>"This isn't you! You must fight back!" Nightcrawler quickly implored.</p>
<p>She turned on him, an angry snarl tore from her throat. Once again he vanished. With an infuriated scream, she twirled in midair. Her fist met his jaw when he appeared a third time. Nightcrawler fell several feet to strike the rocks below. His body hung precariously from the ledge overlooking the sea. Rogue landed beside him, touched a hand to his furry face. Drew in his ability, left him for dead. Then she cast about, looking for more adversaries. She saw a flare of pink fireworks from the forest nearby. Curious, she began towards them.</p>
<p>As she slowly approached, she heard voices raised in anger.</p>
<p>"You ignorant, naive little <em>child!</em>"</p>
<p>"You moronic white trash jerk!"</p>
<p>"Shut up, the both of you! You're <em>equally </em>brainless, imbecilic halfwits!"</p>
<p>This pronouncement was followed with a flurry of pink fireworks and a bright pink explosion.</p>
<p>"Gambit," Rogue grinned, then made herself an arrow and flew in his direction. She paused at the treeline, trying to see the three idiots in the forest beyond. A teen girl, Wolverine, and yes, that was Gambit. Having a competition to see who was the most stupid.</p>
<p>Wolverine was pitching an animalistic hissy fit, swinging his clawed fists while the other two mocked him. The girl shot him a face-full of fireworks. Gambit swatted his ass from behind with his staff. This sent the girl into paroxysms of laughter. Gambit backhanded her. From her perch in the tree, Rogue snickered.</p>
<p>With an infuriated snarl, Wolverine leapt at Tweedle Dum and Dumber. Midair, he was caught by a blast from the woods. A bright white gold light wrapped itself around his skull and he collapsed to the ground, screaming and twitching. Gambit and the girl regarded one another for one moment and then took off running in opposite directions. Rogue pursued Gambit into the forest. She lost track of him, but then heard him shout.</p>
<p>"Forge, you sonofabitch-," Gambit then followed up with a stream of profanely racist hate speech the likes of which Rogue had never heard. It was prosaic in its colorful allusions and imaginativeness. He finished his tirade: "And in conclusion, so's your mother!"</p>
<p>"Gambit, I'm going to expect a formal written apology when this is over," Forge called back. "Something along the lines of: sorry for the things I said when I was possessed."</p>
<p>"Eat shit! Guess it turned out you're not a murderer after all, enh? Well, you and Storm can both just go and <em>fuck right off</em>. You two deserve each other!"</p>
<p>Rogue bamfed herself closer to the sounds of the argument. She saw another blast of yellow-white light. A volley of charged cards answered in retaliation. Rogue bamfed again, low to the ground now. She slowly spun in a circle, searching. Another blast of yellow light, this one dangerously close to her head, erupted against a tree trunk. Rogue blinked the sparkling lights from her eyes. Heard the sound of breaking tree limbs, feet crunching through leaves at a run. She bamfed again, turned. A running figure crashed into her, front to front, face to face. Rogue fell backwards to land in a pile of leaves. Gambit was atop her, his face close to her own. He was breathing hard, his dark eyes searched her face. Rogue seized him, one arm around his body, the other hand fisting in his hair. She heard Forge approaching. She bamfed away.</p>
<p>They were tumbling now, down a hill, over a moor. When they came to a rest, Rogue was on top, straddling Gambit. She dragged him upright by the hair, pressed her mouth to his. She chose not to absorb him...yet. Instead she ripped the mask from his head, tearing strands of hair out along with it. Kissed him hard, their teeth banging. She bit his lip, tasted blood. Her other hand yanked the belt from his waist. Gambit gripped the front of her bodysuit at the throat, tore it apart with a flare of his powers. His hands searched beneath the shredded clothing, palming her breasts roughly. She was grinding her hips against him, feeling him hard against her through two layers of clothing. They were both panting, moaning. He was struggling for a grip on her waist, looking for a way to free her from the bottom of her bodysuit. Rogue was trying to drag down the waist of his uniform. Their mouths warred one another. She was going to bring him to the height of pleasure, then absorb him, steal his climax for herself. Unable to free him from his uniform, Rogue sat up, riding his hardness. Her hands went around his throat.</p>
<p>"You fucking bastard," she panted. "You cheating, lying-."</p>
<p>"Lies...let's talk about <em>lies</em>." He gripped her hair, dragged her down to hiss into her face: "You let me believe you were <em>dead</em>."</p>
<p>"You-left-me!" she screamed through clenched teeth.</p>
<p>"You abandoned <em>me</em>! Not good enough for your little clique, am I?" He attempted to roll her over, but she reared back and punched him in the jaw. Her hands returned to his throat. His hands gripped her wrists, pressed her hands more firmly against his neck. "Do it, I <em>dare </em>you!"</p>
<p>"Ah <em>want</em> to!" she growled through gritted teeth. She silenced him with her squeezing fingers; he made a gagging, choking sound. Though he urged her onward with his hands, his legs were scrambling for escape beneath her. She rode him still, taking pleasure from his struggling. Sounds of effort emitted from her lips.</p>
<p>Rogue's skull suddenly felt as if it had been struck by lightning. Indeed, it was now raining, thunder rumbled. But it wasn't lightning. Lights were flaring all over her vision, her body jerked spasmodically. Rogue was screaming, over and over again, her hands on her skull. Her nails dragged at her scalp, as if she could tear the pain away.</p>
<p>She collapsed onto her side, falling into wet grass. Rogue moaned. Gambit was struggling out from beneath her legs, pulling playing cards from his sleeves. Gambit sent a charged card flying. It exploded and was met with a startled cry from somewhere behind Rogue. Gambit was dragging air into his lungs, coughing. He'd managed to clamber to his hands and knees, but as he stood, a figure plowed into him from the side. He was borne to the ground.</p>
<p>Now Wolverine straddled Gambit's waist, his weight keeping the thief pressed to the ground. Gambit was snarling as incoherently as Wolverine ever had as he attempted to buck his opponent off.</p>
<p>Wolverine was shaking Gambit by the lapels of his coat. "Snap out of it!" he screamed into Gambit's face. Gambit attempted to head butt Wolverine and immediately regretted it. In pain, his flailing hands gripped Wolverine by the hair. His hands began to glow.</p>
<p>"Forge!" Wolverine shouted. "Shoot him already!"</p>
<p>"It's jammed!" Rogue heard Forge call back. "He hit me with one of his cards!"</p>
<p>Rogue raised herself from the ground to see Forge at the top of the hill. He was seated, furiously attempting to repair some kind of gun using parts from his own mechanical leg.</p>
<p>"I'll send you straight to Hell!" Gambit was screaming in a raw voice, made rough from Rogue having strangled him. His eyes glowed bright red. Horrifyingly, he began to chant: "<em>Ollon dusiosi dubi ex doro u Anthumn...</em>"</p>
<p>"Forge!" Wolverine shouted in alarm.</p>
<p>Forge was panicking. Rogue scrambled to her feet. Something tore across the sky like a lightning bolt, but froze in place.</p>
<p>Wolverine observed this, looked back down at Gambit, seized him by the shoulders and threw him back down forcefully. Gambit's head struck a rock and he abruptly fell silent.</p>
<p>Forge was running, sliding down the hill. "I have it," he panted, pointing the weapon at Gambit's skull.</p>
<p>"Wait!" Wolverine cried and forced the weapon skyward.</p>
<p>"Shoot him! Don't shoot him!" Forge yelled. "Make up your damn mind!"</p>
<p>"Just thinking hitting him with a neural scrambler might not be the best idea," Wolverine admitted. "He's scrambled enough."</p>
<p>Rogue staggered over to the two men, to where Gambit lay unconscious. The tear in the sky had disappeared. "L-logan," she stammered. "Wh-what…?"</p>
<p>"You in much pain, Rogue?" Wolverine asked her. "If you need to borrow-."</p>
<p>"N-no. Ah'm...alright. What's goin' on? Why-why are we doin' this to each other?"</p>
<p>"The Shadow King," Forge told her. "He's taken possession of just about everyone on the island."</p>
<p>Lightning forked the sky and the clouds let loose a torrent of rain and hail. Forge looked skyward, his expression miserable.</p>
<p>"We gotta keep him unconscious," Wolverine said and gestured to Gambit's prone form. Wolverine slowly stood.</p>
<p>"Ah can...do that," Rogue said reluctantly.</p>
<p>"See if you can take him back to the med bay," Forge told her.</p>
<p>Rogue rubbed her forehead with both hands. "Kurt-Ah zapped him good. He's just northeast of the research center…"</p>
<p>"He'll have to wait," Wolverine said. "We still have to track Jubilee down."</p>
<p>"Jubilee?" Rogue asked.</p>
<p>"The girl," Wolverine cast his gaze downward.</p>
<p>"I'm not looking forward to having to shoot her," Forge said, looking at the neural scrambler.</p>
<p>Wolverine extended his hand, asking for the weapon. "I'll do it. Maybe you can recover Nightcrawler."</p>
<p>"I don't know if I'll be able to get past the mob," Forge answered. He had not yet turned the weapon over to Wolverine.</p>
<p>"Multiple Man," Wolverine said. "He's supposed to be holding them off."</p>
<p>Rogue bent, lifted Gambit upright. His head fell limply to her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him and lifted him. "Ah'll take him to the med bay," she said. "I can bamf back to you, meet you where Ah left Kurt-."</p>
<p>Wolverine held up a hand, pointed at Gambit. "Stay with him," he ordered. "The last thing we need is a bunch of Shadow King possessed demons running around."</p>
<p>From a distance, they could hear a siren wailing. It grew closer.</p>
<p>"Banshee," Forge said to Wolverine. The two men regarded one another, then stood back to back. Forge raised the neural scrambler to the sky, attempting to track the sound and spot something through the rainfall.</p>
<p>"Get going," Wolverine told Rogue.</p>
<p>With a shaking breath, Rogue teleported back to the research facility. Just outside, she found the place to be chaos, with people running, screaming, guns and energy weapons being fired. SHIELD was there, Fury barking commands. Wolverine was right, there were several of the same person, like clones, running about attempting to subdue the human crowd. Freedom Force at war with Hounds, with humans. Worse still, the sights of her friends fighting one another. The wind whipped, sheets of rain poured down. A bolt of lightning cleft the sky. Rogue could see Storm flying above. She was battling a male figure clad in hospital wear. It was hard to tell which side was possessed, and which was fighting the good fight. Between the lightning and the pyrokinetic powers the man wielded, the facility was barraged with energies. The lights suddenly went out, pitching them all into darkness.</p>
<p>Not knowing what else to do, Rogue teleported herself and Gambit into the building. She was not familiar with the facility. Inside it was dim, the power now running on backup generators. She consulted a floor plan affixed to the wall by the emergency exit. Finding her route, she began down the hall. As she turned the corner, she came across a body. The man was dead, she did not know who he was, but he was missing most of his skull. She flew on. Up ahead, she could hear voices. It was impossible to know if they were friend or foe. She used Shadowcat's powers to slide into a wall, waiting until the approaching figures came towards her.</p>
<p>She recognized the speaker, and she gasped. Emerging from the wall, still holding Gambit to her shoulder, she shouted: "Professor!"</p>
<p>Charles Xavier was drawn up short. Flanking him was Jean Grey...and Mystique.</p>
<p>Rogue gaped at the trio. She hadn't seen her mother since Dallas, nor thought to ever see her again. From the news report issued by Val Cooper, from Fury's own mouth, she had heard that Mystique was dead. Likewise, Rogue had led the world to believe she was dead as well, so she supposed she couldn't get too bent out of shape about it...</p>
<p>Quickly assessing the situation, Xavier mentally instructed Rogue to take Gambit to the med bay, where two other mutants were recuperating. Where one lay dead. She saw a flash of memories, Xavier's rescue from Skrulls, the arrival on Earth to find it in a state of mass panic, the Shadow King amassing amazing strength using Polaris as a nexus between the Astral Plane and reality. Legion, the man battling Storm outside, was his host. All road signs pointed directly to Imminent Destruction.</p>
<p>"I need to face him, the Shadow King," Xavier said. "On the Astral Plane. It is the only place he can be defeated."</p>
<p>"We need Psylocke," Jean said.</p>
<p>"Taken by the Shadow King," Xavier responded, he paused to confer with his thoughts. "Banshee, Wolverine, and Forge are in pursuit."</p>
<p>"I can...<em>traverse de Astral Plane</em>," an accented voice said, in a sort of mocking tone that indicated she was repeating something she'd heard.</p>
<p>Rogue was startled to see BellaDonna in the hall beyond. Belle looked equally surprised then, to see Rogue carrying Gambit. The assassin immediately shoved herself forward past Xavier and Jean.</p>
<p>"Remy?" she called, panicked.</p>
<p>"Unconscious," Rogue replied.</p>
<p>Belle turned to Xavier and Jean, as if she didn't trust Rogue's prognosis. They must have conveyed assurances, because she relaxed marginally.</p>
<p>"Belle," Jean began. "You're untrained. And you're…"</p>
<p>"I know what I am!" Belle responded hotly. Indeed, Rogue could see the large swell of Belle's belly under her Guild uniform. "And I was de one who killed de Shadow King's last host. If it weren't for me, he wouldn't a taken your boy!"</p>
<p>"It was the Shadow King's plan all along to assume control over David's body," Xavier said, his voice grave.</p>
<p>"I have to make it right," Belle insisted. "We owe you a debt."</p>
<p>"I don't have time for this," Mystique said, her voice low and raw. "I'm going after Legion."</p>
<p>Xavier regarded her for a moment. "You can meet up with the rest of the team by accessing the tunnels below. That will take you past the melee outside. We need to sever the connection, to...stop Polaris. Cut the Shadow King off from his power." He again paused, then said: "Mystique...he is my son."</p>
<p>Mystique cast Xavier a glance that conveyed how very little that meant to her. She pushed past Rogue and started running down the hall and out of sight.</p>
<p>"We'll set up in the med bay," Jean said finally. "It's the most protected-."</p>
<p>There was suddenly an eruption that knocked them all from their feet. Pieces of the surrounding walls crumbled, fluorescent light tubes tumbled from the ceiling. They were pitched into a dull red darkness.</p>
<p>"David," Xavier said quietly to himself.</p>
<p>Beside her on the floor, Gambit moaned. Rogue pressed a bare hand to his forehead. His fluttering eyelids stilled.</p>
<p>"Just what do you think you're doin'?" Belle shouted, struggling to get to her feet. Because of her belly, she had to turn herself onto all fours before she could become vertical again.</p>
<p>"He could be repossessed by the Shadow King," Rogue said. "Forge couldn't blast him…Ah'm just...siphoning off some of his-."</p>
<p>Belle's expression was livid. "Do you have any idea...the pain he felt-when y'all just up and <em>died?</em> That kinda guilt, for being the only one left? And now, here you are! Alive and well. It's a goddamn miracle."</p>
<p>Rogue's eyes clouded with tears. Quietly, she whispered: "Actually...Ah do know what he felt. Now."</p>
<p>They moved toward the facility's medical wing. Rogue deposited Gambit onto an empty bed. Kitty, and thankfully Kurt as well, were also there. Kitty was awake, she blinked at Rogue.</p>
<p>"Kitty, Ah am so-."</p>
<p>"It's alright, Rogue," Kitty told her softly.</p>
<p>Xavier, Jean, and Belle were taking seats on the floor. Rogue spied Beast, emerging from behind a privacy curtain. When he saw Rogue, his expression was not relieved, but stricken. Rogue felt a sensation of encroaching doom. She began to shake violently. Who was behind the curtain? Who was dead?</p>
<p>Hank extended a hand towards her. Rogue moved forward, nearly took his hand in her own, but then snatched it back. Hank's eyes were sad as he guided Rogue behind the curtain. He drew back the sheet covering the still form. Irene...<em>Renie</em>...lay there, her unseeing eyes pressed closed. Her expression was serene. Rogue choked out a sob. Sat on the side of Renie's deathbed, took her cooling hand in her own. It was the first time she'd ever touched the woman she knew, a woman who was half of the family she'd known.</p>
<p>Rogue wept bitterly. Hank gave her a handkerchief which she pressed to her face, muffling her cries. She shook her head. She could cry later. Right now, there was more to worry about. Renie was beyond help, she was at peace.</p>
<p>"Hank," Rogue said. "Gambit...needs t'stay unconscious for now."</p>
<p>The big man sighed. "I'll give him a sedative," he said tiredly. "Then stay out of firing range afterwards."</p>
<p>They left Irene's bedside. Rogue stood at the end of the medical bed where Gambit lay. She saw that he was wearing a blue and gold uniform, similar to the ones the original X-Men wore when Xavier first founded the School. It looked very strange on him. Was he an X-Man now? From his memories, she saw he'd been enlisted to retrieve Xavier from space. She felt his warring emotions; one, he was very, very relieved that the friends he'd believed dead were alive. Then, very, very upset that they'd not let him know they were alive. Exuberant slash deceived. Glad yet betrayed.</p>
<p>Also, so excited. He was going to space!</p>
<p><em>Space: the final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship </em>Enterprise<em>. Its continuing mission: to explore strange new worlds. To seek out new life and new ...</em></p>
<p><em>Not about to pass up </em>that <em>opportunity! And meet Xavier. Holy shit, Xavier looks like Picard! I'm about to have a fanboy meltdown!</em></p>
<p><em>Get a grip, man! Stop smiling like an imbecile! Look </em>adult<em>! You haven't looked this foolish since Tilby introduced you to Cap'n America! You're star-struck.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Laser beams, flashing lights, wild cards, men from Mars, dressed in Stars and Stripes. Eclectic, electric, ladies of the evening, drinking booze and mingling...Ooh la la, I see stars, I'm seeing stars…</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Read about stars and cars, play electric guitars-BOOKS, check 'em out!</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Do the baby's room up in stars, like my room when I was…</em>
</p>
<p>Rogue put her hands to her head, moaned.</p>
<p>"Rogue," Kitty said, touching her gently. "Why don't you come sit down?"</p>
<p>Kitty helped her sit on the bed she had vacated. Rogue was struggling to catch her breath. Then they heard a sharp, sickening, cracking sound. Xavier was now lying prone on the floor. It appeared his leg had been fractured. Kitty clapped a hand over her mouth, horrified. It seemed Xavier was facing off against the Shadow King on the Astral Plane, and possibly losing the battle. There was nothing for Rogue and Shadowcat to do but sit and watch. Beast crouched by Xavier's side, at a loss. Then Jean gasped and shuddered. Belle shrieked, the sound horrible enough to raise the hairs on Rogue's scalp. The assassin collapsed onto her side, clutching her stomach.</p>
<p>Suddenly possessed by Gambit's thoughts, Rogue rushed to her aid. Gently, she touched the woman's face. Her violet eyes rolled back into her skull. Seized with panic, Rogue was calling Belle's name over and again. Beast firmly but gently moved Rogue aside. Stethoscope in his ears, he listened to her heart, checked her pulse. Then he lifted her tunic, felt her abdomen.</p>
<p>"I need to move her to a bed," Beast said. "Monitoring equipment. I believe the child is breech."</p>
<p>Rogue was shaking. She moved aside hurriedly so Beast could lift Belle from the floor, carry her to the bed.</p>
<p>"Kitty, will you assist?" Beast asked. "We need to take her to surgery."</p>
<p>Shadowcat, struck mute, just nodded. Her face was pale.</p>
<p>Rogue moved to hustle after them as they wheeled the bed from the room. Beast turned to look back at her. "I think you should stay here," he said. "In case we have any further casualties."</p>
<p>What he likely thought was more along the lines of: you're a detriment in your panicked state.</p>
<p>Beast and Shadowcat hurried away, the bed bearing Belle's still form between them. Rogue perched on the edge of Gambit's bed. He was unmoving. Kurt was in the bed beside her, also unconscious. Rogue stared at Jean and Xavier. They both poured sweat. Rogue clapped her hands over her ears when Xavier's other leg was broken. She felt sick.</p>
<p>Suddenly, there was another terrific explosion that reverberated through the facility. Rogue felt a concussive wave of energy pound against her chest. She folded over, gasping. The lights then came back on, though one exploded in a shower of sparks. Jean gasped again, and this time her eyes opened wide. She crawled from her seat on the floor, retrieved a rubbish bin from beside a bed, and vomited into it.</p>
<p>Rogue rushed to her. "Jean, what happened?"</p>
<p>Jean shook her head, looked back at Xavier. He let out a low moan of pain.</p>
<p>"The Shadow King...he's destroyed," Jean finally said. She scrambled back to Xavier's side. "Charles, I'm going to tamp down some of your pain receptors. Help is on the way."</p>
<p>"How? Did you defeat him? On the Astral Plane?" Rogue asked.</p>
<p>Jean nodded wearily. "Only after they broke the nexus, cutting off his power," Jean said. "Psylocke...No, Forge forced Psylocke to use her powers to sever Polaris from the connection. They're on their way back now."</p>
<p>Rogue left Jean then, dashed to the hall. If she could somehow help, bring the injured back to the med bay...do <em>something</em>. From Xavier, she'd had a picture of the place put into her mind. She flew down the hall towards the access points to the tunnels. She met Wolverine first. He was carrying the young man in hospital clothes. David Haller, or Legion. He appeared unconscious. Forge and Banshee were not far behind. Moira MacTaggert followed behind Banshee. Rogue reached for Doctor MacTaggert.</p>
<p>"You're needed, sugah," she said. "The professor is in a bad way."</p>
<p>Moira nodded, looking pale and shaken. She turned to Forge: "Once we get the injured to the med bay, form a triage."</p>
<p>Rogue stood back, the flow of mutants kept coming. She knew most of them, not all. Colossus carried Polaris. She was awake but not lucid. Storm was bearing the weight of an Asian woman with long purple hair. Seeing the hair color, Rogue wondered where Psylocke was. Several Muir Island residents, those she didn't know. The remaining members of X-Factor, Cyclops and Iceman and a Morlock she knew as Caliban who had taken Angel's place on the team. Then Mystique and the government liaison between Freedom Force and the Office of National Security, Val Cooper. Rogue then found herself eyes to eye with Nick Fury. She looked away, embarrassed.</p>
<p>"Rogue there's something I have to tell you," Fury began.</p>
<p>Rogue shook her head, furiously. "You lied t'me!"</p>
<p>"Mystique was hypnotized into believing she was Val. We had to disguise the fact-."</p>
<p>"Ya know what, Ah don't even care!"</p>
<p>"She only came out of the hypnosis when she heard your name."</p>
<p>Rogue blinked through angry tears. Seeing no one else needing assistance she hurried back to the med bay. MacTaggert and Cyclops were hovering over Xavier. He seemed to fade in and out of consciousness. David Haller lay on the bed beside him. Forge blocked Mystique's entrance through the double doors. She had a gun in her hand.</p>
<p>"Get out of my way," she was saying.</p>
<p>"You have no reason to be in here," Forge responded. She looked at him with absolute loathing.</p>
<p>"Nevermind, I can hit him from here," Mystique aimed her gun over Forge's shoulder, pointing it at Legion where he lay helpless. Nightcrawler suddenly appeared before her. With a shout of surprise, she jerked her weapon skywards. Nightcrawler seized the pistol from her grip and bamfed away to appear at Rogue's side in the hall.</p>
<p>Thwarted, Mystique cried: "He's too dangerous to let live!"</p>
<p>"His body lives," Xavier said weakly from his bed, eyes staring at the ceiling. "His mind...does not."</p>
<p>Beast and Shadowcat were coming down the hall. Rogue felt her heart sink to see the expressions on their faces. Beast shook his head at Rogue, slipped past Forge to enter the med bay. He began helping the injured.</p>
<p>Rogue looked at Shadowcat, tears filling her eyes. "Is she dead?" Rogue managed.</p>
<p>Shadowcat took a shuddering breath. "S-somehow her body is alive. But Hank says...no b-brain activity. Jean says, her psyche was destroyed." Kitty swallowed audibly.</p>
<p>"The baby?" Rogue prompted.</p>
<p>"She was tangled in the cord," Kitty began to weep, put her hands over her eyes.</p>
<p>Rogue pressed her trembling lips together, struggling to hold back the sobs that threatened to erupt from her throat.</p>
<p>Mystique turned to her. Said coldly: "I suppose you'll have Gambit to yourself now. Whatever is left of him, anyway."</p>
<p>Rogue sucked in a breath. "Is there no bottom limit to how cruel you can be?"</p>
<p>"As if I hadn't lost <em>my child</em>. Or thought I had...And the one person <em>I loved</em>."</p>
<p>"Ah loved Renie too," Rogue told her.</p>
<p>Mystique's mouth crimped into a sneer. "You've a funny way of showing it." She then stalked off.</p>
<p>Shaking now with fury, Rogue put her fist through an already much damaged wall. Both Kurt and Kitty attempted to calm her. Ororo was departing the med bay, pausing briefly to look at Forge. Behind her trailed Remy, now conscious. Rogue blinked at him. His face was expressionless, but his eyes soberly took in her appearance. Rogue too glanced down at herself, forgetting that her black bodysuit had been shredded. Remy slipped out of his coat. He hung it over one of her shoulders, then pulled its warmth over the other. Then Remy and Ororo passed into the hall and walked slowly toward the surgery room. Ororo's guiding hand on his arm offered support.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Non-consensual activities. Sexual situations. Character deaths.</p>
<p>Next time: Clean up, clean up, everybody do their share.</p>
<p>If I don't elaborate on a particular event, like the rescue of Xavier in space, most of the action during the Muir Island Saga, assume it is the same as 616 universe. So, in this chapter, the action on the Astral Plane and the rescue of Polaris are the same as depicted in the books. I condensed the timeline between when Destiny is killed and the Muir Island events. Also, Belle shot off Jacob Reisz's head (the host body prior to SK's taking over Legion), not Mystique. The major change is that Rogue and Mystique do not reconcile. </p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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